


Shuk'la: (v) Broken

by heavenseed



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Female Jedi - Freeform, First Time, Heterosexual Sex, Honor, Jedi, Love, Mutual Masturbation, Religion, Science Fiction, Sex, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Virginity, m/f intercourse, religious conviction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:41:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 47,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26996074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenseed/pseuds/heavenseed
Summary: Din follows a thin lead to a Hutt-ruled planet where he meets a mysterious Jedi. Both hold their spiritual customs close to their hearts and only a big-eared, fuzzy-headed baby has a chance at breaking down the walls they've built around themselves.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Original Character(s), Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 154





	1. Summer Solstice

The Razor Crest landed with a groan. It’s landing gear settled into soft earth in a densely overgrown area of tropical swamp land. Mandalorian bounty hunter Din Djarin locked down the engines of the ship and initiated security protocols that would engage when he was more than half a click from the ship. Behind him on the jump seat, his child’s fuzzy green ears perked up in curiosity, hearing a crowd and music. As the ship powered down and the canned air flow stopped, delicious smells began wafting through the intakes. The Child chirred happily, waiting for The Mandalorian with tempered patience. 

The Mandalorian turned to see the inquisitive eyes of The Child, giving a heavy sigh. “A festival might help us blend in?” The question was rhetorical, but The Child smiled and trilled happily, raising his little arms to be picked up.

Vodran was a mudball of a planet. Deep in Hutt Space, it was high on the list of places Din Djarin wanted to avoid. Yet here he was, loaded to the teeth, his son’s pram tethered closely to himself. His last visit to Maz Kanata on Takodana had yielded information about a source of information that may have been hoarded by the local Hutt Clan pertaining to the Jedi. It wasn’t a lot to go on, but it was the best lead he had to find his son’s people. As he had made his final approach, he could see throngs of people in brightly colored clothing for miles on the major roads, all headed to a dilapidated- looking palace overhanging a muddy river. He landed the Razor Crest several clicks away from where flags waved at the entrance and music carried over on the wind.

Now, as they moved to be engulfed in the crowd, Din covered the Child’s head so that only the watery orbs of his eyes could be seen. There was little he could do for the beskar of his armor glinting, even in the hazy sun dulled by an overcast sky. The Child waved and smiled at passersby, accepting a little wooden beaded necklace from a human on stilts as they started up the stairs of the palace. The crowd seemed jovial; it appeared to be some sort of holiday. When a shrill cry came from the pram tethered to Din, he stopped in his tracks. The Child bounced in the pram, pointing a tiny claw at a market stand where steam rolled off shish kebabs of meat. Din simply sighed and tossed a couple of Flan toward the vendor. He brought back two skewers and gave both to The Child. The little one cooed in satisfaction.

“It’s hot. Don’t swallow it all at once.” The Mandalorian warned. The Child took an experimental nibble of the meat and trilled happily. He bounced in his pram, as if to say thank you, as he held both skewers in front of him. Under his helmet, Din couldn’t help but smile. Tether still secured, they continued trudging up the wide staircase of the palace, stone worn smooth by a millennia of footfalls. As the pair approached the gates, just another couple in a throng of people, the hair in the back of Din’s neck stood up. He scanned the pillared entrance to the palace, where children leaned over the railing of the promenade, several different species called out and waved to others making their way up the stairs. He saw a flash of red in his periphery, but it was done as soon as he turned toward the river side of the palace. The feeling of being watched stayed with him as they entered the palace. 

As they entered the first room off the promenade, The Child squealed in delight. Dancers, primarily human, wore costumed in jewel tones, dancing to similarly adorned drummers in the center of the room. The space was a huge amphitheater, rising several stories above the crowd and open to the sky. The columns of the room were tiled with colored glass and each column supported a different jewel-colored flag. Across the room a table laden with food was spread out with fruits and candies and pastries. Din pulled the pram along with him to the far side of the room so that he could see all the exits. Finding a place in the shadows allowed him time to scan the crowd and consider his next move. 

“May I offer a cake to your little one?” The voice was sweet, but low enough that only Din and The Child could hear it. Until his dying day Din would deny startling at the sound of the small person beside him, wrapped in a dark grey cloak. Tendrils of flame red hair tried to escape the hood around the small figure.

“No. He’s fine.” Said the Mandalorian. Beside him, The Child’s ears drooped as he looked from the cloaked figure to Din. He gave a disappointed coo and reached for Din’s arm in question.

“You are being watched, Mandalorian. You have been noticed.” The voice was clearly female.

Din took stock of the situation. The person standing next to him was small. Small could mean quick. It could mean old age. The cloak concealed a lot, but weapons were easy to spot. Their posture was relaxed, though so was his. This was likely the person who he felt watching as he entered the palace, he surmised. 

“Yes. Two Gamorean by the offering table. A T’wilek in the balcony and a human near the West exit.” Din stated simply. Indeed he was being watched by many, all of whom were armed.

“Do not forget the Hutt watching from security, the human dancer trying to attract the attention of your child and the Jedi standing next to you.”

Before Din could turn to question the cloaked figure, a dancer reached out from the center of the theater and tugged at the pram, throwing the bounty hunter off balance, just as blaster fire turned the pillar above his head to dust. A split second later the cloaked figure had The Child in her arms. The lightsaber in her hand glowed green before the Jedi met his eyes and said, “Run!”

The woman in the cloak deftly blocked several blaster bolts with the saber, reflecting them back at the shooter. She sprinted back to the promenade and up a set of stairs to the balcony and the amphitheater seats. Din’s own blaster was in his hand, but through the throng of people he couldn’t see a target. At the sparking and fizzing of reflected blaster bolts, the crowd began to panic and a mighty roar of screams and shouts rose up from it. The backs of the crowd running for the exits allowed Din to see the angry face of the T’wilek coming up the stairs, blaster raised. Din wasted no time putting a hole in his chest. A dancer pushed against the throng of people running down the stairs and suffered a blaster hit to the face before going down and being trampled.

At the top of the stairs there was a bottleneck of people trying to flee and crowds of people running through the balcony seats. More blaster fire came from the end of the hall they were running to. Trapped just off the stairs, the cloaked woman all but shoved The Child into Din’s arms and threw her cloak off her shoulders. She grinned at the Mandalorian before igniting the other end of her light saber and turned to face the armed men on either side of her. Din only watched for a second as she handled herself in a deadly display of gymnastic twists and flips, redirecting every blaster bolt back at the shooter with eerie precision. Din placed himself at her back and knelt down, laying down cover fire over the stair way and blocking The Child from the sparks and plasma coming off the saber. After what felt like mere moments, the shooting stopped and the hallway was silent. The allies turned to face each other, the woman’s chest heaving from the exertion. 

Before either ally could say anything, the entire floor around them heaved throwing them off balance. Dust and debris clouded their vision as the floor dropped from beneath them. Then their ears were filled with the sound of the entire side of the amphitheater crumbling around them.


	2. The Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Injured and out of commission, Din must trust a stranger.

When the Mandalorian came to, the first thing he saw through his visor was the cherubic face of his ward. The pale green face was relaxed in sleep, lids closed over impossibly large eyes, ears twitching with dream. His body hurt, and there was something wedged behind him preventing him from turning onto his back fully. The Child was so close he could see little else; without trying to move, he took stock of himself. His left leg throbbed and his chest was tight. He could feel that his armor was mostly intact and still on his body. He did not feel the familiar weight of his blaster on his hip – it would have been underneath him, and his bandolier could not be felt laying across his shoulder, where the beskar armor forced it between neck and pauldron. It was quiet and dark, wherever he was. He was warm, and the Child looked content. Not comfortable to be without some kind of weapon, he struggled to sit up.

“Hey, you’re alright…” He heard a soft voice behind him. He attempted to turn toward the voice, but a bolt of pain flared in his leg so sharp he could do nothing but cry out and slump back down. “Try not to move too much. I’m pretty sure it’s broken. Here, let me help you.”

The soft, musical voice was closer to him now, pulling blankets from behind his back, allowing him to lay flat. Rolling to his back, he could see the owner of the voice and his surroundings. He was in a cave of some kind, the walls smooth and time-worn. The only light came from a small fire a few feet away, allowing shadows to stretch out and hide the edges of the cavern. From the odds and ends strewn about the place, it was clear someone lived there. A small figure wrapped in a grey cloak assisted him to sit with difficulty, both trying not to wake The Child.

“Why am I here?” The Mandalorian’s voice was sleep rough even through his helmet. 

“The Hutt’s Palace – do you remember the cave-in? You were hurt. The Child and I, we got you out. I couldn’t just leave you there.” 

The Mandalorian watched as the small figure went back to the campfire, adding kindling. “Where are my weapons?”

The figure looked up from the fire; a hint of teeth – a smile perhaps – could be seen under the cloak. “Just behind the child. I needed to disarm you to tend to your wounds.”

“Did you – “

“I did not remove your armor. The left tandun’ bur was damaged, however. I brought it with us.”

The Mandalorian sat in stunned silence for a moment. Who was this person tucked in a cave, wearing a cloak, who knew the Mando’a for his armor?

“I know much, Din Djarin.” It was if he had spoken aloud – but he had not uttered a word. He sat up straight with alarm, which sent a spike of pain down his leg. “Be still. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, in time. Ahh, hello little one!”

Din felt the rustle of blankets as The Child peaked around his body, attempting to fit under his arm, so he could see around the Mandalorian. The Child cooed happily at the sight of the cloaked figure, slipping off the cot to toddle over to the fire. Din tried to protest, but he could do nothing to stop the tiny creature from moving out of his reach. “Careful! We don’t know this person!”

The Child looked back at his guardian, eyes wide with confusion. He looked up at the cloaked figure, and as if to demonstrate their trustworthiness, he lifted both chubby arms toward them.

Din felt helpless, a feeling completely foreign to him. He couldn’t move for the pain, and he could do little to protect The Child in this moment. He didn’t even have his weapons at hand. What would he have done if he had his blaster? His vembrace was still attached to his arm, but he hadn’t even thought to use it. Curious.

Without preamble, the cloaked figure gently picked up the Child and held him close. Bracing the little creature on a hip, the figure pulled back their hood. Beneath it, a young woman with big green eyes and a braid of thick red hair down her back grinned at the baby as he babbled happily to her. 

“How long have I – how long have we been here?” Din asked, fearing how long he had been unconscious and vulnerable, negligent in his duty to protect the Child.

“The better part of two days. I could only keep you comfortable, I didn’t know where I might find your ship. This little one couldn’t tell me. We’ve been here since the Hutt’s palace… the solstice celebration?” The young woman let The Child snuggle against her as she continued to tend to the fire, poking it into life from embers.

“Are there others?” The Mandalorian’s modulated voice echoed in the cavern.

The young woman finally looked up at him, the laughter in her eyes absent. “We are, all three of us, alone.”

***

Din Djarin watched, tense, as the cloaked woman took the Child out of the cavern, out of sight. She had left him with a plate of food and a canteen of water. He understood it as an invitation to remove his helmet in private. He had reluctantly given her the location of the Razor Crest, and the code to disable to security protocols, so that she could bring his medpac. Rolling his shoulders as he lifted his helmet off, he set it aside and ran a hand through his hair. He had much to think about as he ate.

Edith Marshall… Edie… who spoke many languages, could somehow communicate with the Child… knew his name. The woman had revealed little else about herself and the irony was not lost on Din. He too hid his identity, kept his cards close to his chest. He too had learned to judge a being’s trustworthiness and to mete out that trust only so far as it benefitted him, and by extension, The Child. Edie was sensitive to his needs for privacy and anonymity. She was careful to show her affection for the baby clearly knowing the Mandalorian would die to protect it. Din remembered little about the events leading up to waking in this cave, but he was clearly indebted to her.

Ration flatbread, some sort of meat in sauce and a leafy vegetable slowly disappeared from Din’s plate as he rolled the image of this woman around in his mind. Behind the cloak, she was a small, unassuming figure. Without it, she was a unique and unusual sight to behold. Her big green eyes shone in the firelight, unafraid to make eye contact... Most people looked at the wrong place on Din’s visor, but he could swear her eyes met his every time they spoke. Her hood kept the impossibly red braid of her hair covered, though it was only marginally contained in the plait. Din imagined it was a thick mess of crimson curls if it was let loose… He shook the thought away. Even living in a cave, Edie appeared clean and well-kept. Her belongings were orderly but comfortable. It was clear she had lived there for some time. 

The sound of the child babbling and laughing at the sound of his own voice echoing off the cavern walls alerted Din to the presence of others. With a quick scratch at his scalp he replaced his helmet. The child and Edith entered the cave a few moments later, his medpac slung across her small frame. The Child promptly came to him and climbed into his arms. Din accepted the Child’s eager affection.

Edith set the medpac down next to the cot and kneeled next to Din, starting to unpack it. “I have to apologize. I learned your name while you were unconscious… I was looking for a way to help you and the little one. I stopped there.” She laid a warm hand on his knee. “I’m sorry, Din, truly.” Her big green eyes were earnest.

“I forgive you. You took care of my child and saved my life. I’m in your debt.” Din simply nodded his approval as Edie continued to work.

She smiled and began to rummage in the case of medical supplies. “The little one did the hard work…. I saw you have a healing sheath and bacta. We shall use both.” She screwed a small vial of Bacta onto the injector. Setting the device aside, she unrolled a flexible cuff with a small interface attached.

“This will hurt, but if we give the bacta some time to work, it will be easier to get your leg into the healing sheath.” She was matter of fact. 

His frown could be heard through the helmet, “What did he do – The Child?”

Edie worked as she spoke. “He’s truly the one who saved your life. You were crushed under a pillar in the vestibule of the Palace when it came down. He lifted it off you and healed your most concerning wounds. The leg though… The rest took so much out of him, I wouldn’t let him continue.”

The tiny creature watched Edith work with wide brown eyes, and the Mandalorian watched him. The tightness in his chest and the ache in his bones made more sense now. He reached up and stroked the Child’s big fuzzy ears, noting that he still wore his gloves. “Vor entye, ad'ika.”

Edith stopped her ministrations and watched the pair for a moment. “He cares for you very much.” She said softly. Returning to her work, she began to cut away the thick armourweave of the Mandalorian’s trousers with a laser scalpel, revealing olive skin and well-toned muscles. “When you are well enough to change, I will repair your pants. This will hurt, I’m sorry.” 

“Pain is a part of the job.” Din had suffered much physical pain in his life as a Bounty Hunter. Edith winced as she inserted the injector into Din’s bruised and swollen leg. Behind the helmet, Din saw stars as white-hot pain shot through his body. Before the injected Bacta could work to ease his pain, he passed out.

***  
As the blackness of pain eased, The Mandalorian dreamt. 

_A desert town under siege, running through streets strewn with debris, buildings shattered like clay pots and injured people screaming from the rubble. He held a small bundle in his arms that squirmed as he ran. He felt the heat of blaster fire just miss his uncovered face when he slowed to look at the Child in his arms. Soulful brown orbs looked back at him, tears brimming. He clutched the baby to him and ran. His only goal was to get the baby to safety._

__

__

_Turning a sharp corner as a building behind him erupted in an explosion of brick and flame, he saw the doors of the storage cellar. Repeater fire echoed through the street and he could hear a woman screaming. His remaining armor felt like an anchor weighing him down, each step agonizing, his muscles burning. It seemed to take an eternity to reach the cellar, the handles to the doors farther away with each step. Finally he was there, child clutched to his chest as he threw open the door and flung them both down into the darkness. The war outside raged on, blaster fire against the sliver of blue sky he could see between the doors. The cool darkness was a small comfort and he pressed his aching body back against the bundles of grain and salt as debris sifted through the edges every time an explosion would rattle the earth._

__

__

_A shape abruptly blocked his narrow view of the world beyond his hiding place. His heart crept into his throat and he froze in terror. The doors of the cellar opened, and a small cloaked figure appeared, obscured by the sun behind them. Curls of crimson caught on the wind and were haloed against the sky._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a
> 
> Vor entye, ad'ika: thank you little one  
> Tandun' bur: shin guard


	3. Bathing in Firelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din gets a bath, the baby shows off and we learn more about Edith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big chapter. Was waiting for some feedback from friends, but they are slow. Feedback is writer fuel. Leave some for quicker updates!

The Mandalorian’s body slowly came back to consciousness a little at a time. The thick pain in his chest had subsided and his leg only ached. The sound of his son was filtering through the dream fog, quiet, curious trills followed by laughter. A gentle voice was murmuring low, sounding like praise and encouragement. A sense of calm permeated throughout the cavern, warmth emanating from the hearth with the scent of a warm meal. Most other times Din Djarin would be on high alert in an unfamiliar place, not knowing where his child was. Testing his eyesight, Din swept the cavern through his visor, finding his child and Edith some distance away on the other side of the campfire. Without thinking, he sat up and swung his legs off the cot. His head swam dangerously, his vision narrowing in a sickening fashion. The flare of pain he experienced the last time he attempted to sit on the edge of the cot was absent. He did have to hold his own head as the dizziness washed over him, squeezing his eyes shut and groaning.

Edith and The Child looked up to see Din rising to sit on the edge of the cot. The Child’s eyes lit up and he looked behind him for permission. Edith gave a grin and a small nod. A little green three-fingered hand raised, tiny face scrunched in concentration. 

_Ploink_

Din heard, rather than felt, a small pebble bounce off his helmet. He watched it hit the smooth stone of the cavern’s floor near his feet and roll away.

_Ploink_

His equilibrium was still a little off; he watched the next pebble roll away with curiosity. He looked up into the darkness of the cavern’s ceiling above him, which was equally worn smooth with time, looking for the source of the falling stones.

_Plink, Ploink. ___

____

____

Two stones came at him from either side of his helmet and he reached for the blaster on his hip, rising from the cot in a flash. His hand came up empty, the blaster tucked away with his other belongings. He swayed on the spot for a moment, catching himself and allowing his head to stop swimming.

_Plink, plink, ploink, plonk…._

The pebbles started to come faster. “Okay, little one, that’s plenty.” Edith placed a gentle hand on The Child’s head. His little mouth was raised in a triumphant grin.

Din looked around himself to see a dozen pebbles suspended in mid-air like a halo around his head. Without thinking, he gingerly plucked one out of the air and held it up to his visor. It was an ordinary, irregularly shaped pebble, grey shot through with white mineral deposits. His child cooed at him from across the room and Din’s focus shifted to the pair across the room. “Did you do this?”

The pebbles all dropped to the floor in with a clatter, The Child’s face lighting up with pure joy. “He did.” Edith beamed. “And you’re up.” Edith nodded at the Mandalorian, standing without pain at the side of the cot.

Din looked down at himself, his left leg still wrapped in the healing sheath, it’s lights blinking green.

“Gather the stones, little one and then we will eat.” Edith handed The Child a small pouch and moved to the fire to stoke it. Din watched as his son’s face wrinkled into a concentrated frown once more. In a rush, a dozen small pebbles flew from every corner of the cavern and into the pouch held open in his tiny fist. His little green body gave a few heavy breaths, before turning to his father. With his ears held high, the child waddled across the stone floor, the pouch of pebbles held out to show him.

Din sat back down on the cot and picked his child up. “That was… amazing.” He held the little being to himself, and The Child snuggled into the space between his armor, seeking the comforting warmth he often found there. Edith watched the pair as she portioned out their meal. It was clear that they loved each other, though the glimpse she had into their relationship was small. The Child wanted nothing more than to please his father and sought approval as if starving. Edith was eager to learn more about them.

“Come, Mandalorian. I have prepared a space near the steam pools.” Edith held a tray of food and smiled as she passed the pair, piquing Din’s interest with hot food and the promise of a bath.

A natural hot spring ran under the Hutt Palace, helping create the caves and tunnels where Edith Marshal lived. A large terminal pool bubbled and swirled just yards off the main cavern. Din noticed a clean set of armor weave and other personal items from the refresher on his ship. Edith set the food on a small table and smiled when she realized he had noticed his things laid out for him.

“I figured you would want to clean up when you were able. Take all the time you need. The Child and I will be within earshot.”

“That’s very kind.” Din replied, his gazed captured by Edith’s smiling green eyes. The Jedi took her leave, The Mandalorian watching as the canvas flap of the cave fell into place, leaving him alone. 

The scent of a heavily spiced meal was even more inviting as Din removed his helmet and set it aside. He picked a morsel off the plate and tested it – some sort of fowl seasoned with spices he hadn’t tasted since… The flavor bursting on his tongue brought back memories of his first home on Concordia, then too spicy and rich, but one he grew to love and associate with home. Calling on his willpower as a Mandalorian, he stopped himself from inhaling the food, and instead, began to undress. He sat on a rickety stool and rolled off the healing sheath, it’s lights going dark as he removed it. 

Piece by piece he removed the rest of his armor, laying it out next to his helmet. He removed the cuirass last, leaving him in the heavier woven vest. He unzipped the vest and felt the weight of his injuries begin to lessen – a heaviness he wasn’t aware he had been carrying. He didn’t hesitate to pull off the final layer of black armor weave, as it clung to his skin uncomfortably. Setting his meal next to the water, he slipped into the steaming pool with an indecent groan, savoring the heat beginning to warm his stiff muscles.

He let the herbal salts Edith must have added to the water begin to soften his aches and soothe the bruises and wounds drawn across his lithe body. Each line of puckered skin was like a badge of honor, one more line in the long story of his life. His skin bore no tattoos, for no one would see them and he saw no point in paying for pain. He got enough for free. He washed quickly, the steam drawing the grime of the last few days laying unconscious from his pores. Feeling refreshed, he took his meal in the bath, savoring every bite.

Edith had always been painfully lonely. A Jedi consular dedicated to preserving the history of the religion, she had gone into hiding on Vodran. She had been tasked with bringing artifacts back to the temple on Corsucant before the war scattered the Jedi like ashes and the Hutts had proved useful to her cause. She manipulated the underworld to bring artifacts to Vodran, biding her time, living a lonely life in the bowels of the palace. She was very small, unassuming and used her skill as a Jedi to remain invisible.

When the one person who knew she existed reached out, her loneliness over-rode any fear she may have had of being discovered. Another of Master Yoda’s species? She rattled off the coordinates without hesitating. 

Her contact on Takodana warned her about the Mandalorian, but Edith felt when the pair arrived. While the child was a galaxy made of the force, pure and untainted, the Mandalorian was a patchwork of light and dark, many pieces at odds with one another. The places where the two connected however, were threads being knit stronger by day. Edith could sense the Mandalorian’s fear and apprehension, but saw no ill intent – the man’s focus was solely on the tiny maelstrom of Force energy he called his son.

She held the sleeping child as she watched the fire burn down, making a mental list of his abilities and the usual training path of a Jedi. Deeper in the cavern, the Mandalorian, completely laid bare, was bathing. Edith was exuding a sense of safety for his benefit. When he was injured and unconscious, she had panicked and delved a little too deeply into his mind. He too would need training.

She felt out of her element, having been alone, living like a ghost for so long. She was fit to burst. Someone to talk to, someone to cook for, someone to teach, someone to learn from…. And it all served as a painful reminder of everything she had lost. Years of slowly rebuilding the tangible history of the Jedi, alone, made her question her convictions every so often. But then she would straighten her back and straighten her resolve. The suffering of those that came before would mean nothing if she abandoned her faith. Her master… her own padawan… the temple…. Every drop of blood spilled would mean nothing. She was alone, but she could feel others out there amongst the stars, beings who could see and control the Force, and now she would be ready to teach them when the time came.

Clean, stomach full and feeling more like himself, The Mandalorian came back to the main cavern to find his son snoring softly in Edith’s arms. The tiny woman was staring contently into the fire and only acknowledged him when the sound of his armor being set on the cot gave away his presence. In the firelight, Din could see the heat in her face rise when she saw him, wearing only his base layer of dark grey dura weave and helmet.

“No armor then?” Edith looked away as if he had returned from the pool nude. 

Din chuckled, “No. It needs to be cleaned. I don’t usually sleep in it, anyway.” He sat next to the fire with Edith, watching her absently stroke his child’s strange green skin. “It’s OK.” Edith could hear the smile in Din’s voice.

“To see a Mandalorian so… naked. Aren’t you betraying some tenant of your religion?” Edith peeked at Din through her hair.

“No. Don’t you consider me your enemy?” His posture showed that he knew the answer to that question.

Edith turned to Din fully. “No! The history of the Jedi and the Mandalorians is complicated, but you are no more my enemy than this child.” She nodded to the sleeping babe. “Perhaps he is destined to be the next to wield the Darksaber.”

The tilt of Din’s helmet was met with a furrowed brow. “A what-saber?”

“Do you not know of Tarre Vizsla? The Mandalorian-born Jedi?” Edith seemed troubled that Din knew so little.

“I know of Tarre Vizsla.” Din’s tone went dark, though he did not hear any ill-intent from the woman beside him and he had a feeling that she hid fathoms of wisdom behind her bright eyes. 

Edith was not chastened. “He was a Jedi. The only one of your kind to train as one of ours. He built and wielded the Darksaber. I had the honor of seeing where it lay in the Jedi Temple, but by then…” A look of tremendous sadness passed across Edith’s face and was gone in a turn of the firelight.

“It is always said that the Mandalorians united under Vizsla’s sword.” Din became thoughtful.

“After his death, it lay in the Jedi Temple, revered as one of the most force-connected sabers in the galaxy. The Vizsla Clan thought it held more importance as a flag with which to unite the tribes of Mandalore. They slaughtered hundreds of Jedi and burned our temple to the ground to get it. The only thing left was the slab of beskar where it lay…” Edith stared into the fire.

Din realized how little he knew about his own culture, relying on his teachers and trainers and knowing they would often insert their prejudices into what they taught. He tried not to delve too deeply into finding the line between truth and opinion. He had found his Way and that was enough.

“I’m sorry.” Din’s voice was soft through the helmet and was nearly lost in the crackle of the fire. He knew Edith heard him though, when he saw a single tear on her cheek, which she quickly dashed away.

With a dry laugh, Edith deflected, “These are dangerous times for us all. Mandalorians and Jedi alike. We would do well to stop putting the blade to each other’s throats. The Empire may be gone, but the Force remains out of balance.”

“This, force… Is this what gives the child his abilities?” Din leaned in, curious now.

Edith smiled down at the baby. “He is... Force sensitive, yes. He has felt the pull of the Force and has a rudimentary understanding of how to manipulate it. It takes a lifetime of study to become a Jedi. Much like one must choose to become a Mandalorian and swear to uphold the Creed, so too must a Jedi agree to walk the path of the Jedi”

“Were you this young when you began?”

“I was much younger.” Edith shyly began telling her story. “I was gifted to the Jedi when I was an infant. I have no memories outside of the temple. Attachments are… unwise, so I never asked about my parents or my family.”

Din bristled a little. “So you never had a foster parent? An individual to look after you?”

Edith shook her head, curls falling out of place and catching in the firelight. “Oh no. Our caregivers were kind, but many. They changed often until we became padawan learners. By then we had mastered contentedness with our relationship to the Force as our most important bond.”

“That sounds… lonely.” Din said mostly to himself.

Edith smiled. It wasn’t a sentiment she hadn’t heard many times before. “Were you Creed-born? Or are you a foundling?” She countered.

“I was a foundling. Droids killed my family, destroyed my home. The Mandalorians took me in and raised me in the fighting corps.” Din recited. He had said as such many times.

Edith rose and passed the sleeping child to his father. As she stood, she looked into his visor. “That sounds lonely.” She said, before smiling and sitting back next to the fire. She watched as the large, muscled Mandalorian tucked the blanket around the sleeping bundle and held his child close.

They talked through the night, finding their histories more similar than not. Edith finally urged Din to sleep, curling up near the fire herself. He watched her from his bed as she combed through her hair and rebraided it in a loose plait, unclipped the small metal cylinder he knew to be a weapon from her belt and lay down to sleep. She was such a compact little person, who laughed and smiled so freely. She had a mischivious glint in her eyes that made him smile back – something he didn’t do often. He felt… comfortable. They were in a cave on a planet in Hutt Space for kriffs sake! Din fell asleep pondering the events that had lead up to becoming fond of a Jedi.


	4. Outside the Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Mandalorian, a Jedi and The Child have a picnic. Many feelings are had. A fight ensues.

As The Mandalorian strapped the last of his gear onto his bandolier and holstered his blaster, an unfamiliar villager came from deeper in the cavern. He soon recognized Edith by her smiling green eyes and unmistakable red hair. She was dressed in clothes similar to that of the human villagers around the palace, down to the soft leather boots she wore. She caught the armored man watching her as she gathered her own belongings in her bag.

“I can’t go out there looking like a Jedi.” She shrugged and lead the way out of the cave and into the muggy Vodran morning. 

Their hike out of the palace was uneventful. Din had insisted on checking on his ship and they spent the day in it’s shadow; Din cleaning and making small repairs, Edith and the The Child playing in the clearing nearby. At one point he looked out of the hold to see Edith hovering four feet above the ground, meditating, The Child in her lap with his eyes closed. Din smirked beneath his helmet; leave it to Edith to get The Child to hold still for even a moment. When the hazy sun reached it’s highest point, he tamped down his panic when he didn’t immediately find the pair outside the ship. Taking a calming breath, The Mandalorian followed the admittedly adorable heat signature of their footprints down to a small swampy pond. He stopped to watch them when he caught sight of crimson tendrils billowing on the wind.

Leaning on a willow tree, he watched The Child chase frogs on the marshy shore, splashing in the shallow mud. His enthusiastic hunt would stir the cattails and their seed pods would spring open, the gossamer fluff a temporary distraction as little green hands tried to catch them from the air. Further out, lily pads the size of the Razor Crest covered large swaths of the murky water. Willows edged the pond and blocked most of the sunlight, filtering just enough sunlight to allow one to know it was still daytime. Edith sat on a rock up wind of the child, cattail seeds getting caught in her hair. She was absently shredding grass in her fingers, smiling down at The Child when he would present her with a newfound treasure. The smiles never reached her eyes though and were gone as soon as The Child returned to playing in the mud.

“Ni kar'taylir gar cuyir ogir beroya” Edith said, loud enough for the Mandalorian to hear. She didn’t look up until he sat beside her on the rock.

“How do you do that?” Din asked before he noticed the stain of tears on her cheeks.

“I can feel you approaching. Those of us who can feel the Force… we can feel it coalesce around each individual in a unique way. Some call it an aura, others call it a light. My aura can sense when yours is near. It can sense the difference between yours and The Child’s and someone else’s. You can feel it too when you are open to it. When you wake just before your child does or when you sense a presence in a room you thought empty.”

Din hummed in understanding. “Why are you so sad?” A gentle tug on his boot and an incoherent babble shifted his attention to the muddy child at his heel. He deftly lifted the little one into his lap. Despite the totality of the armor covering his body, the soft way he held his child in his arms and the nearly imperceptible way he tilted his head to watch Edith made her relax.

Edith struggled, anger and sadness rolling across her face, not looking at her companions. Instead she looked out at the boggy pond. “I can’t do this anymore. I haven’t had a student in many, many moons. When I became a Jedi Knight myself, and then I became a master, a consular, teaching was my primary goal. But now….” Edith dashed away errant tears and shook her head as if clearing memories she wished to forget. Din watched her as The Child listened, ears laying against his little head. “Every single student I took under my wing has perished.”

“I’m so sorry.” Din sighed. “But Edie –“

Edith raised a hand to stop Din from speaking. “I know, logically, I know it’s not my fault. My peers, my master, my friends, all dead. I seek them often. I ask for their guidance. And nothing.” Edith closed her eyes and sighed, attempting to compose herself. Din studied the thin memory of their battle in the amphitheater coming back to him piece by piece. He placed a hand lightly on her knee hoping to ground her, to reassure her somehow. The urge to pluck the cattail seeds out of her hair was strong and he tamped it down, balling his other hand into a fist in his lap. 

“Your students, did they become knights?” Din asked. A chubby three-fingered hand joined the Mandalorian’s on Edith’s knee.

Edith looked back out onto the pond, seeing not the insects hovering above the brown water or the bog-grass swaying in the heavy breeze, but the faces of those long passed. “Yes, all of them.” Her thin fingers played with an intricate bracelet on her wrist.

“Did any of them become a master?” Din’s understanding of Jedi hierarchy was rudimentary, but he was learning. He was also beginning to learn her facial expressions and the way she would play with the bracelet when she was uncertain as well.

Another tear slipped down Edith’s face, where it hung from her chin. “Eleven of them. The last one died right in front of me…” Her face fell for a moment, a mask of anguish. “Dammit!” Edith sprang from where she was sitting and her lightsaber was immediately in her hand. She was slashing at bog grass and cattails in an instant. Her tantrum was a whirlwind splashing and fizzing, seed pods turning the air into a cloud of fuzz. She was soon into the reeds of the pond mid-calf, shredding the giant lily pads into floating confetti.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Din followed Edith, coming up behind her, leaving The Child on the rock. His big hands held her shoulders, feeling them sag in defeat. As quickly as her temper came, it left her, the saber going silent once more. 

“I let my emotions get the better of me. If I am to teach the little one, I must do better.” Edith squared her shoulders but didn’t try to shake Din’s hold on her. Instead, she leaned back into him. Unbeknownst to Din he was reaching out with his own Force energy to comfort her. For a moment, they just stood there. Edith basked in the brightness of his steadfast comfort, as strong and resilient as his armor. Din was hoping he was at least helping her to calm herself.

The Mandalorian gave her an awkward pat before finally backing way. “To be fair, I think the lily pad deserved it.” He deadpanned.

Din left Edith in the pond and went to retrieve The Child where he stood watching the adults with a worried frown. Edith turned to watch the armored man, letting a laugh come over her before turning to follow.

The walk to the settlement outside the palace was quiet and uneventful, Edith and Din taking turns chasing down The Child when he wandered off the well-worn path. The Mandalorian kept several paces behind Edith, of course, always on the lookout. Edith, the Jedi Consular, had her senses stretched in every direction though. The Child was never safer than he was with the two of them.

The little town was quiet in the late afternoon, as Edith intended. They stopped at several vendors to purchase fabric and food for the night. One particular vendor took an interest in Din’s armor. The man’s gaze flicked from The Mandalorian to The Child and back, his scowl growing deeper by the minute. Edith could sense the tension growing as she drug through her purse to pay the man. Din watched in stunned silence as Edith paid and told the man, “You’ve never seen a Mandalorian with a small child on Vodran” with a sunny smile bright on her face. 

The vendor brightly smiled back at Edith. “I’ve never seen a Mandalorian with a small child on Vodran before!” he said jovially, before handing back most of her credits and going back to packing up his stall without another word. 

“That was remarkable.” Din stated only loud enough for Edith to hear as they stepped away from the stall.

Edith turned to him with a grin. “Useful Jedi skill. I am a ghost here. Few villagers could tell you what I look like.”

They ended their walk to a small shipyard on the far side of the palace, intending to enter the caverns beneath from a different place. Skyhoppers and skiffs moved lazily between cargo ships, some toward the palace, others with goods hovering toward the town. Droids paid them no mind, pulling carts of supplies out of the yard, chirping to each other in multi-tonal binary blips. They followed the edge of the shipyard, between storage containers and a rough-hewn retaining wall that would lead to the service entrance of the palace. Their way was not hidden, and they passed droids and workers as they went.

Ten feet from the service entrance, Edith stopped. She took several steps out into the open space of the shipyard and stood stock still. Beneath his helmet, Din frowned. “There is a disturbance…” Edith mumbled.

“Edie? What is it?” Before the Mandalorian could move a muscle, Edith turned and Force-pushed The Child into his arms, pushing him back into the retaining wall with the strength of it.

“Take the baby into the service bay and keep him safe. Wait for me.” Edith’s expression was not one Din had ever seen. The look on her face made his blood run cold. As he turned toward the service entrance, Edith unclipped her lightsaber and two bright green blades burst forth from both ends. 

The Child in his arms, Din ran for the door, hesitating at the threshold. Looking back, he could see Edith being set upon by four large assailants, her tiny silhouette almost completely obscured by the light of her weapon. He rushed down the hallway into what appeared to be a loading bay. The Child whimpered in his arms, his little ears tight against his head in fear. 

Heart in his throat, Din searched the bay for something, anything that could help him. He found it in a small shipping container and, despite his deep displeasure, an R3 droid. He placed the child in the crate, which was too deep for him to crawl out of. “Stay here little one. I’ll be back soon.” He caressed a long fuzzy ear before securing the top of the crate. “Droid! R3!” The unit turned and beeped obediently. “Protect this crate with your life, understand?” The responding blips sounded affirming enough for Din and he wasted no time running back to the shipyard.

Two humans and a Nikto lay dead in the shipyard where Din had left Edith. There she was holding her own against a very large Klatoonian. Her heavy skirts and wild hair didn’t seem to hinder her in the least, and as the Mandalorian crept around the fight, Edith’s attacker lost a hand to her lightsaber. The Klatoonian let out a pained shriek as Edith gave a triumphant yell, chest heaving. The hair on the back of Din’s neck rose and in his peripheral vision he saw another man leap into the fray. Din’s blaster was up and firing on instinct, killing the new attacker instantly. The one-handed Klatoonian took advantage of the distraction and tackled Edith, her saber clattering to the pavement and her tiny body hitting the hard ground with a sickening crunch. Din grabbed the Klatoonian’s collar and put a blaster bolt through his head, leaving the man smoking on the ground. Edith rolled over and called her lightsaber to herself, lighting it once more and rising to fight.

“Hey!” Din put both hands up in surrender, green kyber plasma heating the beskar of his helmet as Edith held her saber to his neck. The dock was silent and still.

“Is The Child safe?” She didn’t move muscle.

“Yes.” For a moment, Din Djarin was scared. This tiny wisp of a woman, gasping for breath, skirts covered in mud, blood dripping from the cuffs of her jacket and crimson curls a disaster of tangles… terrified him. Edith sheathed her saber and relaxed her stance. Din slowly lowered his hands.

Edith clipped her saber to her belt and turned on her heel. The Mandalorian followed her. Edith needed no direction to find The Child, walking swiftly down the corridor to the loading bay and locating the crate. She ripped off the top and saw the baby was content, eyes wide and ears rising in happiness. She picked him up and cradled him in her arms, kissing his wrinkled head. Din watched them, seeing only the tips of The Child’s ears as Edith cuddled him.

The R3 droid chirped in confusion at the humans and Din dismissed it. “Thank you R3.” It hummed a low reply and rolled off. Din watched it go before turning back. He flinched when he saw Edith’s face in the harsh light of the loading bay. 

Her green eyes were bright with anger and something else he couldn’t place. The fragile skin of her face was marred with a long, jagged cut. Scratches were raising up into welts on her neck and a bruise was blooming on the opposite temple, threatening to swell her eye closed. And those were only the injuries he could see. 

“I told you to keep The Child safe, Din, and you gave that job to a droid?” Edith asked. Her voice was a restrained, angry whisper.

“I came back to help you.” The beskar glowed in the loading bay, The Mandalorian standing a full head taller than Edith, bandolier strapped with explosives and ammunition. He felt the realization come over him, seeping through the spaces his armor and weapons couldn't protect. Nothing he did, nothing he had, no weapon he possessed could protect him from this fierce creature.

“I don’t need your help.” Edith snarled. Din’s posture straightened and he took a step back. She may as well have slapped him. The Child looked up at Edith and gave her a questioning trill. He could feel the crackling tension between the adults. Edith made a concerted effort to let the tension drain from her body. She placed a scraped and bloodied hand against the Kart’a Beskar of Din’s chest plate. “You came to me for help. Let me help you. I am not a helpless woman, Din. I am a trained Jedi Master. I may have but one weapon in my arsenal, it is the one your armor was intended for.”

Din swallowed around the dryness in his throat, seeing Edith’s hand against his chest and noting how right it seemed pressed to his iron heart. “Ni cuy' Ni ceta vod o'r irude.” He bowed his head. “Forgive me.”

Edith closed the distance between them and pressed her forehead against the smooth beskar of Din’s helmet, his gloved hand coming up to the back of her neck to pull her closer, letting the brow above his visor cool her heated skin. “There is nothing to forgive.” They stood together for a moment before Edith stepped away. "It is not safe here. Come." She took Din’s hand pulling him deeper into the palace and he followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a:
> 
> Ni kar'taylir gar cuyir ogir beroya: I know you are there, Bounty Hunter  
> Ni cuy' Ni ceta vod o'r irude.: I am sorry, sister in arms
> 
> Pintrest Board for this fic: https://pin.it/6jTk85N
> 
> Sexy fun times, where we explore Jedi celibacy, and perhaps break it, coming soon....


	5. By the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Child learns to heal, hungry beasts waken.

Edith carried the child the entire way back through the palace, through the twists and turns of the cavern she had come to know intimately in her years in hiding. Din followed without question. They entered Edith’s cave through the back, where Din saw the Jedi had set well-hidden proximity sensors. Only someone looking for such a thing, someone like himself, would ever notice the small panel set into the stone.

Before removing her coat, Edith sat on the cot with The Child and held his little hands. Her bright green eyes met The Child’s enormous brown orbs and they looked into each other. For Din’s benefit alone, Edith spoke, so he would understand the lesson. Her voice was was high, almost a song.

“I need your help little one. I am hurt. Can you help me? I will show you how.” The Child trilled low and sad, looking toward his father. Din nodded once in approval. Edith smiled lovingly at the exchange. “I will walk you through it. Close your eyes, little one.”

Din sat near the cold fire pit and listened. Edith and The Child sat together, eyes closed on the cot.

“Ground yourself. Let yourself just breathe and feel. No fear, no worry… Feel the Force within you, little one….. Feel it within me. I see your bright light…. Yes. That is my light. That light is your father… No, no, come back. Good. Now see Edie’s face? Edie’s hands and Edie’s body? I see your little hands and your little body and your ears. Yes! Good!…. Slow down little one. Just see it. Just look.” As Din watched, Edith’s face was serene and unchanging, while his son’s showed every emotion as it bubbled up inside him. “I know little one….. yes. It did hurt. Concentrate. Feel my skin, how its swollen. The blood vessels are broken there. The skin is broken…… No, do not knit it back together yet. You must examine it from the outside, inward and then you will heal it from the inside and work out….. Yes. This cut. The skin is damaged, the tissue underneath is dying, the blood vessel torn. The nerve is damaged. The muscle is not damaged. Good! …. Pull each fiber together… then the blood vessel. Clear away what has died… yes, like building blocks! Good!… Now try the scratches…” This went on for some time as Edith guided The Child through each injury, delving through the injured layers and working back up, fixing them along the way. Finally, they opened their eyes at the same time, a satisfied smile playing on Edith’s lips. “Thank you, sweet child.” The Child yawned, eyes blinking in exhaustion.

When Edith stood and turned to him, Din gasped at the sight of her, completely healed, not a scratch or bruise to be found. Edith heard the intake of his breath through the modulator and grinned down at him as she took off her muddy coat. 

“Your son is quite the healer. I saw him heal your injuries, but he needs guidance.” Edith began to prepare the pit for a fire.

“It tires him.” Din picked up The Child as he waddled over. “I’m surprised he didn’t fall asleep right away.”

“He’s been using brute force to heal. What we did just now was more delicate and focused. Takes more time and skill, and he will tire, but he will be able to endure for longer.” Edith crouched over the fire and let the embers build until the kindling caught. 

The Child seemed content to just sit and watch the flames as they built, Edith tugging off her boots and unstrapping her belts, laying the leather items to dry by the fire. Without preamble, she pulled off the first layer of her clothing, much of her underclothes pulling up with it. She paid her companions no mind, smoothing down the crinoline and underskirts after balling up the intricately embroidered dress she had been wearing and chucking it near the entrance of the cave. Next she hiked up her heavy underskirts and put a leg up on a crate near the fire revealing the pale skin of her thigh wrapped in a leather knife holster. The Mandalorian caught sight of the swift movement and cued in on it, as was his instinct. His focus was torn in two, however, by the sight of two sharp knives against a woman’s thigh and his Creed-born desire to protect this woman’s dignity. Edith chose for him as she switched and began removing a holster from her other leg. “Pockets.” She said simply.

Din turned his gaze from where he had been watching her work the complicated buckles in the firelight. He was thankful for his helmet, feeling his face heat with embarrassment at being caught watching her.

“You must be wondering how one would access knives in this clothing.” Edith dropped her skirts and grinned, shoving her hands into pockets hidden within the seams of her skirts. “Pockets!” She shimmied out of the heaviest of her skirts, letting it pool around her ankles in a puddle of fine linen on the cold stone floor, unfazed by being watched.

“Would you like some privacy?” Din asked, but didn’t move. While he was objectively enjoying watching a woman undress, he couldn’t be sure this wasn’t a mind game.

Edith regarded the man on the other side of the fire for a moment, stood before him in nothing but her undergarments and the knife holster under her bust. He was still completely covered in his flight suit, armor and helmet, ammunition and weapons. His cape hung off his still form and fluttered in the current caused by the warm fire and the cool air of the cavern. Din watched the flush come over Edith, spreading from her cheeks and down her neck, until her decolletage was painted red. She bit the side of her lower lip and gathered the skirt on the ground to herself.

“Sorry. It’s like I’ve been living alone in a cave.” Edith turned and began to walk back toward the other caverns. She had little time to react to the change in the Mandalorian’s proximity, he moved so quickly to catch her.

A gentle but firm hand on her arm stopped her. “Wait.” Din’s voice was soft. “Let me help you.” Edith shivered feeling his warmth at her back and let his gloved hand push her hair over one pale shoulder, giving Din access to the three buckles beneath her shoulder blades. He unbuckled them with deliberate slowness, one hand holding her hip in place as he tugged at the strap and pushed the leather through the clasp. Each tug constricted her ribcage by a fraction and she drew in a sharp breath, which Din could feel beneath his gloves. Finally the leather gave way and he reached around her to let it fall into his hands. “I’ll sharpen these for you.” They stood there for a moment, the energy between them buzzing like a vibroblade. The tension broke when The Child trilled at them both in a curious tone from beside the fire.

“Thank you.” Edith didn’t look back as she quickly made her exit.

Din watched her go before turning to his son. “Dinner?” Big brown orbs blinked up at him. The Mandalorian sighed and began to remove his weapons.

In her private chambers Edith changed quickly, mentally chastising herself for undressing in front of the Mandalorian. Indeed she had been living alone in a cave for over a decade, but still. She had just been in a fight with multiple opponents who were larger and stronger than her, and one had been intent on obtaining not only The Child, but her saber as well. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, centering herself and focusing her energy outward on her problem and not on herself. Reaching out she could feel The Child’s hunger and exhaustion, but also his self-satisfaction and his affection for both his father and herself. She felt Din’s presence, reaching between the armor and under each defense to the man beneath. His focus was fractured, between the task of feeding his son, danger lurking outside the cavern and Edith’s presence further within. When the Force energy Edith had focused on Din collided with the Force energy he unknowingly projected toward her, it gave Edith a whole body shiver. In the main cavern, Din felt his heart flip in his chest and he gasped as he nearly fell into the flames as he leaned over the fire, setting their meal to cook. He caught himself, panting, head spinning for a moment before the sensation passed as quickly as it had come. 

Edith backed off on her exploration inside the cavern, setting aside her desire to explore what more she might find, and pushed out further, into the palace and the grounds beyond. She found the void left where the men she and Din killed lay, she took stock of the townspeople, the palace staff, the workers in the port. All appeared quiet. And yet all had appeared quiet earlier as well. She was worried; far more worried about potential threats than she was about her earlier embarrassment. 

Pulling back into herself, she brushed through her hair and pulled it up off of her neck, quickly making her way back to the fire, stomach complaining .

The Jedi, the Mandalorian and The Child finished their meal in quiet contemplation, speaking little. Din took his meal at the mouth of the cave, alone. The Child fell asleep as soon as he finished his meal, his father tucking him in to bed on the cot. Din removed and polished his armor and then joined the Jedi by the fire as the night grew late. Edith stared into the fire, where she absently fingered the intricate bracelet on her wrist, a delicate weaving made of twelve colors, some very close in tone, others clashing garishly. 

“Panthea, Ash, GT, Mehan,” Edith recited quietly, following each multi-thread strand with a fingernail, “Floyd, Wick and Aleck, Sophia, Kol, Rob’n and Khrys… and Phoenix-” Edith’s voice was but a whisper.

“Edie?” Din interrupted Edith’s reverie. She looked over at him and blinked as if coming awake.“Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Edith smiled “It’s OK. I’m just… I am remembering those gone before.” She fiddled with the bracelet and moved to sit closer to Din.

Din gently took her wrist and really looked at the bracelet. “In my culture we say, _Ni su’cuyi, gar kyr’adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum_.” He said quietly. “Hair?”

“Yes. This was made from the braids of my padawan. A master cuts them off when their students become Jedi knights.” Edith’s eyes were clear and bright as she smiled at Din. He squeezed her wrist affectionately and let go of Edith’s hand. She let her hand rest on his knee. “I kept the ones that didn’t want them, and asked for a few strands from those that did. I didn’t know it would be a Memento Mori.” Edith pulled the sleeve of her tunic over the bracelet and leaned back against the crate behind her with a sigh.

Before the silence could grow uncomfortable, Din pushed the conversation forward. “You fought well today. I’m sorry I underestimated you.” He pulled out a whetstone and Edith’s knives and set them all in front of him. He began cleaning each one starting at the hilt and working up to the point, using another small knife to clean hard-to-reach areas between the intricate designs on the handles. Edith just watched the process, fascinated. “Why do you carry knives? I thought you said you had but one weapon?”

“Do you use your blaster on children pickpocketing in the market?” Edith knocked her shoulder against Din’s. “A lightsaber would be overkill for general personal protection.”

Din hummed in agreement. “So when you aren’t fighting as a Jedi, you are just a very well-armed citizen of Vodran?”

“Yes.” Edith tucked her legs beneath her and reached for a small box near the cot. “We should spar tomorrow, include the little one.” She opened the box and brought out embroidery to work on in the fire’s light.

Din paused in his motions, the sound of the knife on the stone stopping cold. “Spar? With you?”

Edith blinked up at him. “Of course.” She frowned. “Does that frighten you?”

Din laughed and continued sharpening the knife in his hand. “It surprises me. After today I didn’t think I would make a worthy opponent.”

Edith focused on the fabric and thread in her hand. “Sparring is practice, exercise. The point is not to win, but to hone our skills, yes? We can demonstrate for The Child.”

“He is far too young” Din set the first knife aside and began on the next. “The last time he watched me spar… Little bogwing tried to kill a rebel shock trooper I was arm-wrestling. Almost succeeded.” He chuckled at the memory, beginning to clean another knife.

Edith’s hands stilled. “That is concerning.” She watched The Child on the cot for a moment, his ears twitching in his sleep. “He’s very attached to you.”

“Yes.” Din held the knife up to the firelight to inspect his work.

Edith frowned. “Seeking pride from others is… problematic. Attachments are complex and unwise. He is too strong to leave untrained, but I fear your bond could be a weak point for you both.”

“How so?”

Edith shrugged, as if Din should understand. “An enemy could use your love against you.” She went back to her embroidery, placing a few stitches into the delicate fabric as the Mandalorian watched through the impassive visor of his helmet. “A well trained Jedi or Sith could manipulate one to believe a loved one was dead or injured, or that an ally has betrayed you. We have much work ahead of us.” Edith sighed and checked her work, adjusting the fabric in the embroidery frame and beginning to stitch again, before realizing Din was still watching her. “What?”

“Is that possible?” He sounded horrified.

“Oh yes. It is one of the many reasons we do not form emotional attachments. Younglings given to the Jedi are severed from their families, sexual relationships are discouraged, females are sterilized to prevent pregnancy…” Edith shrugged and turned back to her work.

Din stopped Edith with a hand on her arm, alarmed at her nonchalance. “Wait. The Jedi prevent women from bearing children… you don’t have sex?” Had he not had his helmet, Edith would see his mouth hanging open in astonishment.

“We are allowed to develop to sexual maturity, for muscle tone and strength, but the ability to bear children is removed. It prevents producing force sensitive children who could be turned to the Dark Side and be used against the Jedi through the parent-child bond.” Edith reasoned.

Din shook his head. “That’s… That is insane. Children are the future. Pregnant women are revered in my culture.” He toyed with the knife in his hand, no longer able to concentrate on the well-practiced ritual. He was agitated. “Mandalorians have resorted to raising orphans to maintain our culture. Our entire planet is uninhabitable because of war - genocide! We are warriors to protect life, not to take it. Sex is… its an act of rebellion, defiance. Its - Its how clans are made - families.”

Edith blushed fiercely as Din argued openly on a subject spoken of so little in her own culture. “It’s just so taboo. The endorphins, the pheromones involved, can often lead to emotional attachments. Every attachment is an opening for attack, a blind spot.”

Din turned to Edith, his arms resting on her knees. “How well has that worked? You have kept a memento mori of your students. You mourn them. Cry for them. Is that not emotional attachment?”

“True.” Edith conceded. “But Mandalorians… you don’t share your name or your face with anyone… how does… how do you….” Edith smiled and rolled her eyes. “I mean, I know the logistics. But with the armor….” Her eyes traced the line of Din’s body with a smirk, the gears in her mind working overtime. She could feel the change in the man’s energy, but wasn’t clear on what it meant.

Din gave a heavy sigh, but gripped Edith’s legs in his ungloved hands. “When Mandalorians are pair bonded or aliit, they can remove their armor in front of one another. We need to know whats in here,” Din tapped his knuckles on the top of his helmet, “and in here,” he placed his hand over his heart, “before we bother with what’s beneath the armor.”

Edith smiled and let her hands slide over Din’s on her lap. “That’s… sweet. Dangerous, but noble.” She was completely innocent to the effect she was having on the man in front of her, and he knew it.

Din chuckled, still bewildered and confused by the Jedi. “But that’s families. Warriors are passionate people. Sometimes, sex is just sex. After a battle there’s still this energy, this adrenaline sometimes. Eh… you just work it out with a partner.”

Edith let Din play with her hands, focusing on the contrast between her pale skin and his golden tone. His skin was calloused and scarred, while hers was soft. “There’s always proper stretching… drills…” Edith teased. “Sparring…” 

Din pulled Edith closer to him by her wrists. Edith gasped. “No.” Din’s voice was sharp. “Fucking. No discipline, no rules. Just sex.” 

Edith shivered. “And if you don’t have a partner?” Her voice was breathy and stilted.

The Mandalorian was no stranger to arousal; no stranger to the adrenaline fueled pursuit of physical release. The pure need to affirm that he was alive and breathing in the most basic way possible. Edith stirred this in him, just by her proximity. The contrast of her soft skin, expressive eyes and wild hair to his hard lines, impassive mask and stoic demeanor made something wake in him. Now it was clawing at his ribcage, hungry. An underfed beast with enough strength left to seek escape. Hungry beasts were unpredictable, dangerous, and willing to fight for freedom and food. 

Edith’s own untrained beast stirred in her belly, not for the first time, but certainly stronger now. She had been tempted long ago, but years of discipline and practice had locked that piece of her away, hidden where even she couldn’t find it. But the bounty hunter had and now…

Din dropped their hands and pulled away from Edith, picking up the knife he had left long forgotten on the floor and taking it to the whetstone once more. Edith watched him in silence and then turned away as well to put away her embroidery. She bid The Mandalorian goodnight and disappeared to her chambers; Din didn’t offer a response and she didn’t wait for one. He dutifully finished cleaning and sharpening her knives and returned them to their holsters. Eventually he drifted off while the fire burned down to mere embers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a:
> 
> Ni su’cuyi, gar kyr’adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.: I am still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal (remembrance of those passed on, often followed by the names of those remembered)
> 
> aliit: family
> 
> Pintrest board for this fic: https://pin.it/3QTRUkE
> 
> COMMENTS ARE LOVE!! Please leave some.


	6. Hot Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edith Hunts for Breakfast and has a think. Din makes a decision

Edith jogged through the early dawn mist, her footing sure and light, following a path she knew as well her own face in a mirror. She carried a small bowcaster on her back, her hair tied up in a tight braid to keep out of her way. The day would be warm, judging by the moisture in the air and the dew gathered on the moss on the ground. Nocturnal animals had turned in as the sun began to rise, and the sounds of morning greeted Edith’s footfalls. Her morning jog was her usual way to clear her mind and focus on the day, but today she was unusually distracted. She had slept little, thinking of the Mandalorian and The Child fast asleep in the caverns she called home.

Din Djarin was proving to be an infuriating man. For all he traveled the galaxy as a bounty hunter, he knew little of the beings in it. Even what he knew of Mandalorian culture was narrow, Jedi even more so. Where the Jedi chose to set aside attachments to each other, and serve the galaxy, Mandalorians served only Mandalore. They fought amongst themselves nearly to the point of extinction. Din’s incredulity at Jedi celibacy was rich, Edith thought, and quite ironic. A man who kept his entire body shrouded in impenetrable armor, never showed his face, except to someone he trusted enough to call his family? How could he ever get that close to someone? Did he know his sect of Mandalorians was one of the most strict? It was Edith’s role as a Jedi Consular to know and study the histories and cultures of sentient beings of the galaxy, but she wasn’t sure it was her place to question Din’s understanding of his own way of life.

Her run slowed to a jog as she looked for the tell-tail signs of game. Edith came upon the scat of an inuru, a small but quick creature that she often hunted in the morning. It was no bigger than The Child, but made for a good meal. She found a tree she could swiftly climb, resting her back on its thick trunk and settling in to wait. The dense, damp jungle was waking up around her as Edith sat still as a mushroom on the branch.

As big of a conundrum Din Djarin was, he was an honorable man. He loved his son, that much was clear. He was devout to his creed as a Mandalorian, at least as far as he understood it. He was nothing if not steadfast. He kept his word. But Edith felt such turmoil in the man. From the information Maz had given her, he had broken the Bounty Hunter Guild code to rescue The Child from Imperial remnants. His tribe had revealed themselves in order to protect him and had suffered severe losses in the process. Edith knew the six edicts of the Resol’nare, the foundation of Mandalorian creed. The moment they were at odds with being a bounty hunter, Din had chosen his faith. Edith couldn’t fault him for that. But those connections that seemed so important in his culture were the very things that she had always been told would tear a person apart in hers. And where people were soft and forgiving in the Jedi tradition, Mandalorians were hard and unyielding. 

If not for the flash of it’s blue tail, Edith would have missed the inuru as it darted past her, stopping not ten meters from where she was perched. She aimed and waited for the creature to sit back on it’s haunches and sniff the air before shooting it dead with her bowcaster. She raised a hand and called the kill to herself, pressing a sincere thanks for the animal’s life into the Force surrounding her and putting it into her bag, sitting back to wait once more.

The dismantling of the Empire was meant to have brought balance to the Force. Yet the Jedi were scattered, the New Republic was just beginning to get its feet underneath them, and pieces of the Empire moved ever closer toward each other. Imperials were like spilled mercury that would coalesce and pull inward toward itself until it was again its original cohesive mass. It was only a matter of time. Edith found herself feeling the bitterness of despair rising in her throat. She wished for guidance that never came, no matter how often she meditated, no matter how far she reached out. Rebuilding the knowledge of the Jedi had been the Grand Master’s final wish for Edith, but to what end? Without sharing it, it would be lost to time and in sharing it with The Child it would mean that time would at least be stretched a little farther. 

The real problem, Edith knew, the one she was skirting, was that The Mandalorian meant to leave The Child with her. She would keep him and teach him as well as she could, but their bond was problematic. If Din Djarin stayed and trained with them, The Child might be more successful. If they stayed, Edith would no longer be so alone. These were uncharted waters for all of them. She could feel her carefully crafted fortress being picked apart with tiny three fingered hands. Edith was unsure if it wasn’t unwelcome. But if Din stayed...

For a few moments Edith let herself replay her moments alone with Din Djarin the night before. Were she not a Jedi Master, she may have entertained his company in her bed. His gentle grip on her shoulders to ease her tantrum after following her into the bog had surprised her, though less so than when he asked her forgiveness for not trusting her skills as a warrior. The amount of respect that showed and the willingness to humble himself before her without hesitation. Noble, yes, but objectively just... gentlemanly. And then there was the shape of him without the beskar and the feel of him pressed against her back, tugging on the strap of her holster. The solid warmth of muscle more comforting and real than Edith had imagined anything else could be. She pressed her back against the trunk of the tree where she sat and blinked up at the morning haze to ground herself, the memory of his body against hers fresh and persistent. She understood the rush of the hunt - she was in it now - and the adrenaline of battle, all too well. Some Jedi meditated after a battle, others sparred with one another, some did forms with their lightsaber. To imagine anything as primal as sharing your entire body with another person. Edith had nothing with which to compare. Once again, she wished for guidance.

By the time the Mandalorian and The Child rose, Edith was returning from her hunt, bringing in two field-dressed inuru for the morning meal. She entered the cave smiling brightly at The Child and his father, who were still fuzzy with sleep. She was quiet, preparing food as they dressed. It didn’t take long for the smell of sizzling meat to draw The Child and The Mandalorian back to the fire to watch Edith cook, boiling water in a small kettle. They simply watched her as she worked, Din silent as Edith explained each step to The Child. Large brown eyes watched every movement with active curiosity. 

“I hope this satisfies. Inuru are quite filling for their small size.” Edith said, passing Din a bowl before taking The Child to the mouth of the cave with her so that he could eat in private. Edith grinned and left the man standing there staring at the food as she balanced two bowls in one hand and the baby on her hip.

Vodran was bathed in murky, heavy light, the day’s heat already beginning to set upon the swamps. Edith set the child in a patch of soft lichen and gave him a bowl of inuru meat, oats and berries, which he happily dug in to. She sat next to him and reached out with her mind, specifically into the palace above them. It had been several days since the collapse of the amphitheater. The palace proper was still intact, but the Hutts (rather, their droids) still sorted through the rubble, hoping to find the remains of a Beskar-clad Mandalorian. The Empire had raped and pillaged Vodran just as it had every other planet in the galaxy and there wasn’t much left other than the palace itself. The Hutt family still called this place home though, and they still held a penchant for hoarding relics. The wet, warm Vodran atmosphere was not the most hospitable place to house artifacts, which weighed on Edith’s mind was sweat gathered on the back of her neck. Her meditation was cut short when tiny hands tugged at her dress and a curious trill brought her mind back to her immediate surroundings. 

“Edie is going to teach you to meditate, little one. We will spend time simply being one with the Force.” Edith scooped up The Child and let him sit in her lap. They had done this before and he closed his eyes as Edith did. Before long, Edith’s body rose from the lichen, her face a mask of serenity. Loose stones around the pair also rose up around them, hovering above the ground like satellites around a singular star. This is how The Mandalorian found them, after eating his breakfast and donning his armor. The pair were an ethereal sight, floating above the ridge where the mouth of the cave sat, hidden by vines and overgrown willow. 

Not knowing what to do, the Mandalorian knelt much like he did in the armory on Nevarro, waiting. He could feel the weight of the air around him, the heat and humidity creeping through the gaps in his armor as his mind drifted. The early morning fauna of Vodran go about their routines, rustling leaves, moving through the trees and calling to one another. The air carried the scent of damp earth and sodden leaves, the scent of decay and rebirth. Underneath the familiar scent of the bog and rainforest, a spicy scent crept under Din’s helmet. A hint of something he could not place….

“Good little one! You did well!” Edith rubbed at The Child’s ears. “Thank you for being patient, Din.” Edith smiled down at the Mandalorian kneeling at her side, The Child blinking down at him in a daze. The Mandalorian just nodded in silence. “Please go find your stones, Little One, and do not touch the fire.” Edith set The Child down and he wordlessly obeyed her.

“How do you do that?” Din asked, watching as the tiny being waddled back into the cave, shaking his head in disbelief.

Edith was watching The Child go as well, a fond smile playing at her lips. “Jedi magic.” She turned and gave Din a grin as he turned to her, earning a huff of a laugh from the modulator in his helmet. Edith turned serious though. “Din, we need to be clear on where this is heading.” Edith slipped off the rock and leaned against it, biting her lip in the way Din had come to learn meant that she was uncertain.

“Edie, I’m sorry about last night. I -” DIn started to rise from where he knelt.

“No!” Edith’s eyes were saucers in her head and her chest began to turn red with embarrassment. “This isn’t about that!”

“Then what?”

“The child!” Edith knelt in front of Din, his helmet following her every movement. She continued to blush but she soldiered on. “I know you mean to leave him here. And I will train him, to the best of my ability. But I also know you two have a bond. You are a family. I know he would do better if you stayed.” As she spoke, Edith slipped one of Din’s gloved hands into her own. 

The Mandalorian was silent for long time, staring at their hands. He had denied how strongly he felt for the baby and it hadn’t mattered. Edith could see it plainly, whether or not she could see his face. “I do… care for him. Very much. But I don’t belong here. He belongs with you.”

“He belongs wherever you are. His training depends on your presence.” Edith squeezed Din’s hand, her impossible green eyes imploring him to agree to stay.

Din’s gaze roamed over Edith as he took in her words. Sweat beaded at the base of her neck, the heat of the morning settling thick around them. The color of her dress and the intricate stitching on the edge was stained dark with the dampness of her skin. Errant curls had fallen out of her braid. and the Jedi had yet to clean up after her hunt. He had already come this far. He also felt the pull of his people and a deep-rooted need to find his tribe. Din sighed through his helmet, looking into the gloom of the the cave after The Child.

“I don’t have a plan, beyond this. I… can stay for awhile.” He nodded in agreement. 

Edith’s smile was dazzling. “Good! We have much to discuss. You will also need training. To help him." She brought his hand to her chest and held it there for a moment, blushing even deeper when she realized what she had done. "Thank you, Din. We'll talk. Tonight." Edith released his hand and stood. "I must attend to himself." Edith stepped past the larger man, using his pauldron to steady herself and swiftly disappeared into the cave.

Din watched her go, absently massaging the arm where Edith had held it to herself, wondering if he would get to see that smile every day for the rest of his life if he stayed on Vodran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In an interview, Pedro Pascal once said his favorite Disney princess was Merida from Brave. So there you go.


	7. Event Horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time has passed. Edith begins Din's training. She lets something slip.

_His strong arms enveloped her body, pressing the entirety of her against him as she cradled him against her bosom. His lips and nose and chin fit against her neck below the shell of her ear as if the space were made for him, her hands anchoring them both as she weaved them into his dark curls, fingernails scratching at his scalp. She could feel every lithe muscle of his body move against hers, his hands attempting to map every bone and tendon. The strong muscles of her hips and thighs kept them joined, his own legs trembling with the desire to move with her. The spicy scent of her was overwhelming, he could taste it on his tongue as he licked off the salt sweat of her neck, a bead of moisture that threatened to run down her collarbone. He was surrounded by the veil of her wild hair, spirals of crimson that smelled of cinnamon and chile and leather. She was in a place she had never been before, completely surrounded by, consumed by, another person. It was terrifying. It was everything she didn’t know she needed, this exquisite closeness of drawing out the wanton moans of another person and revealing those raw, sacred places to someone else. She could feel his thundering heart against her stomach, pounding even faster as she leaned down to pull his lips to hers. He guided her body, so much smaller than his, to move over him in that ancient undulating rhythm one just simply *knew*. Her grip in his hair grew tighter and his hands gripped her harder, breaths harsher and their bodies coiled tighter._

_“Olaror rud ni ner kar’ta.” He rasped into her ear before he tensed and spilled himself inside her, body trembling in her arms. She leapt off the cliff with him, a jump she had never taken before. She was safe there in his arms, keening and shaking, finally curling in on herself, spent._

_They pulled back to look into each other’s eyes -_

The dream was gone in a flash. Din’s voice calling to The Child cut through Edith’s sleep as it often did these days. She blinked awake and took in her surroundings, the familiarity of her chamber catching her off guard after the completely foreign content of her dream. She was drenched in sweat and tangled in her sheets, a stack of datapads had been knocked over onto her cot sometime in the night. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes trying to erase the dream from her mind. She quickly dressed and attempted to tame her hair, knowing that if she lingered, she would be summoned by a little green gremlin soon.

In the main cavern she found The Child and The Mandalorian already dressed for their run. The Child squealed happily as Edith came in, her sunny smile matching his. 

“Good morning.” Din handed Edith a canteen of water and she accepted it. She blushed deeply and had a hard time looking in his direction. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. “Would you like to take him or should I?”

Edith picked The Child up and nuzzled him affectionately. “Oh, I could use the extra exercise this morning.” Din watched as Edith took the long piece of cloth from him and sat his son in it. She playfully swung the baby over her shoulder and settled him on her back, taking the remaining length of the fabric and wrapping it securely around herself. Din lead the way out of the cavern, wearing only his duraweave, armor and helmet, carrying just the bowcaster and a bag. Absent was his blaster and bandolier. “Lead the way.” Edith nodded to Din as they stepped out of the Cave just as the sun peaked over the horizon.

It had been nearly six standard weeks since the Summer Solstice celebration that brought the Mandalorian to Vodran to find the Jedi Master Edith Marshal. They had fallen into an easy routine once he accepted that he couldn’t leave his child behind. A morning run was followed by hunting or foraging, then a morning meal. Meditation and reading or lessons usually followed before the afternoon meal and a nap for the little one. Din made use of the palace library and Edith’s many datapads while she devoted herself to The Child’s Jedi training. The adults each had their own routines and skills to keep in practice and would offer each other time alone. Din would spend time on the Razor Crest, while Edith would disappear into the swamp. They were amicable, friendly even, doing the dance of people who knew that if they allowed themselves more familiarity, they would get *too* close. 

Today was the day they had set aside to begin Din’s own training with Edith. It had taken a lot of convincing, but Edith had earned his trust through his child many times over and had agreed to at least try. After settling The Child for the night, the Jedi and the Mandalorian sat on the rock at the mouth of the cave, he in only his helmet and base layers and she in her most simple robes. They sat legs crossed in front of one another, knees touching. Din was tense, but Edith was in her element here. 

“I know this will be difficult for you, Din. You will need to trust me. Implicitly.” Edith sat tall there, nearly glowing in the moonlight.

“I trust you.” Din said flatly.

Edith just smiled. “You trust me to care for your son. You trust me as an ally and as a friend. I need you to trust me as a teacher, a trainer. Can you do that?”

Din hesitated. “Yes.”

Edith ignored his hesitation and continued. “I will teach you to protect your mind from attack, from the dark side of the Force. You must be mindful of your emotions. You have nothing to fear from me. I will never harm you. I will never remove your armor and I will never ask you to break your creed as a Mandalorian. Understood?”

“Understood.” Din nodded.

Edith sighed and went on. “I will test you. You may think me unfair and cruel at times, and for that I apologize. I’m sure your training in the fighting corps was often difficult as well. You will do well to remember why we are doing this. Your son deserves to live in freedom. With both of you trained, you will not have to live in fear.” 

Din just nodded. Edith brought a bundle from behind herself.

“I will not ask you to forgo your armor during your training. I will, however, ask you to cover it while you train. While I am not training you to be a Jedi, I am training you to quiet your mind and learn to shield it, and believe it or not, this will help.” Edith passed the bundle to Din. It was a simple cloak that fastened at one shoulder and would cover most of his upper body, hiding the beskar. On the right shoulder an intricately embroidered Mudhorn signet was the only adornment on the garment. Din was speechless. “Now, I will begin by simply allowing you to feel what it is like to have another presence in your mind. I will not delve into your memories. I am asking your express permission to let me in.”

Edith held out her hands, palms up. Din regarded them for a moment before placing his much larger hands on top of them, still gloved. Edith tutted and frowned, just staring at him as she yanked each glove off in irritation. Din just stared back, smirking behind the beskar. Where her fingers were soft and delicate, his were work-worn. Hers were strong, though, as she grasped his wrists.

“Relax, padawan.” Edith closed her eyes and opened herself up, using the Force to push at the edges of the Mandalorian’s mind. 

Warmth crept up their joined hands, and the scent Din hadn’t been able to place once again crept under his helmet, spicy and welcoming. Edith’s Force presence felt like syrup in his veins.

_The world flashed white, blinding Din. He blinked against the light, his eyes quickly adjusting. He sat in the cockpit of the Razor Crest, in full armor, hands on the controls, ship floating in space. There were no coordinates in the navicom. While the panels on the dash were familiar, there were some buttons that appeared newer than others, the writing still legible, where the others had long had their labels rubbed off. Outside the cockpit, an event horizon loomed, oil on water, clouds of celestial gases swirling in an ethereal cosmic display._

_“This is where you feel most comfortable.” Edith said from beside him. Somehow her presence didn’t startle him. “You could go anywhere from here.”_

_Din’s hand trailed over the switches and dials that were like an extension of himself. “What - what does this mean?” He turned to face Edith._

_“Be calm, Padawan. I feel your fear. This is simply your mind’s interpretation of a base of operations. A safe space. Dare I say, I am impressed that you have brought me here. You can take me wherever you wish in your mind, or nowhere at all. But being here, with you, I would see what you see.”_

_The light of whatever star was being born outside the ship reflected in the beskar of Din’s armor as he silently considered Edith’s words._

_“I can feel everything you are thinking, Din.” Edith said. “Everything.”_

_Din shivered at the implication, the warm syrupy sensation quickly replaced with ice water. “Can you see me?”_

_“Because you do not want me to see you, I cannot. If I didn’t respect you, I could. I could force you to remove your helmet, Din. But I won’t.”_

_“You can see into my mind…”_

_Edith smiled, “Because you are allowing it. I came here one time in order to save your life, but I wouldn’t do it without your permission otherwise. I want to teach you to protect yourself from people who would do this without permission, people who mean to harm you.”_

_Din sighed. “So you know…”_

_“Yes. I know how you feel about me. I understand. And I appreciate the honorable man that you are Din. We have much to focus on, and I believe our energy is best spent on The Child. Our own desires will cloud our judgement. Agreed?”_

_Din nodded, “Agreed.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Olaror rud ni ner kar’ta: Come around me, my heart


	8. Yaim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn The Child's name and Din gets a call.

The next weeks proved difficult for the Mandalorian. Edith asked him to share more and more of himself, those pieces he couldn’t shield behind his armor or within his helmet. He told himself it was for his son’s sake, but it felt so good to just uncover himself. Edith never judged him, her gaze upon him in his training never wavered, never changed. She taught him how to put up mental barriers against intrusion and to clear his mind of thoughts that betrayed himself, which he often used to clear his mind of his thoughts of her before his lessons. He would spend time meditating, locking himself in his tiny bunk on the Razor Crest in his mind and just bleeding himself of every pent-up thought coursing through him. He would lock that compartment before readying himself for his lesson with Edith, though she didn’t often lead him through visualizations anymore. Now she tested him in real time, pressing suggestions into his head, leading him to certain places on their runs, using the lessons she had taught all of her padawan.

The Child’s training was slower, more focused on those things all children must learn as a matter of course. Controlling one’s temper, eating without making a grand mess, manners, were all made more challenging when a child could wield the Force. Din watched as Edith helped the foundling channel his tantrums into mindful meditation or carefully will food from his plate into his mouth without losing a bite. The days when he would go into the town or to the ship on his own and returned to the cavern to find Edith and his son in fits of laughter as they played some ridiculous game never ceased to make his heart flip in his chest.

This afternoon, like many others, The Mandalorian downloaded several books into his datapad from the Palace library in the waning light, his cloak hiding most of his armor. The tiled walls of the room glinted off his helmet like jewels. The palace was nearly abandoned, and he moved through it easily. The servants and slaves were in attendance wherever the three remaining members of the Hutt family were in the house. Din still moved cautiously, hand on his weapon. His footsteps were quiet on the worn stone steps as he descended toward the loading bay and out into the shipyard. Once outside the palace, the yard workers and droids paid him no mind. His armor covered, he was not an unfamiliar sight in town.

Din quickly made his way through town, stopping only to buy a few fresh foods, and making his way to the Razor Crest by a different path than he had the last time he’d made the trek, his hunter’s instincts ever present. When the ship came in to view, his shoulders visibly relaxed. Day by day the ship was more and more hidden by the jungle itself and for that he was grateful. The perimeter sensors still pinged to his vembrace as he breeched the circle of their security and he disabled them. He stilled for a moment, listening to the environment, making sure he was completely alone, before opening the side hatch to the ship.

Warmth and familiarity engulfed him and he let the satchel holding the datapad and food drop to the floor of the hull as he pulled off his helmet. He intended to just be for awhile but as soon as the weight of his helmet left his shoulders, he felt it. It was both a sound and a sensation, and incessant tapping that was both unfamiliar and yet a sound he knew in his bones. Din dropped his helmet and flew up to the cockpit, where the sound was coming from. Next to the blinking red light of the holopad, a dark blue light pulsed in a rapid series of bursts. Dadita. Din blinked and just watched the blue light for a moment, until it stopped. Seconds passed before it began again.

Hipi olaror yaim.

Coordinates to Dantooine.

Din sat back in the pilots seat. His mind was swirling. Dadita directly to his ship. He hadn’t seen it used since he swore the creed. It was indeed the covert calling him and any other members of his tribe home. But, Dantooine? He reached over and disconnected the receiver, letting the little blue light fade to black. He couldn’t send a return message, for obvious reasons. Dantooine could just be a relay station. He would have to go there and reconnect at the coordinates and see if there was a new message.

Scratching at his scalp and massaging the back of his neck where a migraine threatened to form, he resigned himself to going back to the cave early and making a plan with Edith.

The moment Din entered the cavern, Edith’s laugh fell silent. He saw the immediate change in her demeanor, from motherly gentleness to deadly serious. The Child’s ears plastered themselves to his head, cooing up at Edith as she held him. The three of them stood in the entrance to the cave for a moment, knowing there was something changed between them all.

“We’ll talk after he’s in bed.” Din said as he unclasped his cloak. Edith just nodded and took the garment. She turned to go back into the cave. Din stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “You already know, don’t you?”

“I know you are very troubled. I’ve taught you well Padawan. I’ll wait until you’re ready.” She reached up, gave his gloved hand a reassuring squeeze and left him standing there. Din swore her kindness was going to be the death of him.

After their evening meal, Din sat next to the fire with his son on his lap, following Edith’s instruction to teach him Mando’a. It was difficult with the helmet, The Child unable to see his father’s face, but he was making progress.

Din was dressed down in just his duraweave and helmet, holding the baby’s hands as he spoke. “Buir.” Din tapped The Child’s hands to his own chest, then tapped their hands to The Child’s chest. “Ad’ika.” The Child just stared at his own reflection in the beskar of his father’s helmet, big brown eyes blinking.

Edith sat down opposite the pair and began working on repairing one of her dresses. “It might be easier if you named him.”

“What if he has a name?” Din sighed. “Do you have a name?” He asked the little green child. The baby just blinked his large brown eyes back at his father.

“I’ve asked him.” Edith shrugged. “He’s never said. We can’t just call him kid or little one all the time.” She threaded a needle in one pass.

Din let The Child hold on to his thumbs and raised his arms, the baby holding on and laughing. Din quickly brought his arms down, making the baby squeal as his belly flipped. Edith watched them play, a fond smile playing on her lips. “What should we call you, ad’ika?” Din lifted him into the air again and rubbed the brow of his helmet against the baby’s belly, earning a deep laugh from the little boy.

“He reminds me a little of the Buddha - a jovial deity from the Buddhist religion on Terra. He was said to meditate beneath a Bodhi tree…” Edith said offhand, as she tucked her legs under her and started on her sewing.

“Boo.” The Child tapped his hand on Din’s helmet and squealed.

Din’s breath caught in his throat. “What did you say?”

The Child gently tapped the side of the helmet again. “Boo-r.” Big, wet brown eyes blinked once and little hands grasped his little tunic and pulled. “Bodhi.” The Child said softly.

Din choked on a sob. “Edie.”

The Child looked across the fire, where Edith had been concentrating on her sewing. “Bodhi.” He chirped louder.

Edith looked up, a flood of emotions pushing themselves across the room toward her so hard it made the flames shiver. Din was petting the baby’s little green head, speechless as Edith came over to the two of them.

“Buir.” The Child repeated, smacking the side of Din’s helmet.

Edith gasped and smiled. “I see! Yes! Din is your buir, your father!”

Din whispered just loud enough for the vocoder to pick up, “Bodhi.” as he pulled his son in to himself.

“Are you alright?” Edith asked as Din rejoined her at the fire. The Child - Bodhi - was fast asleep in his bed, and Din was tense with emotion. Edith could feel it rolling off him in waves. Where they normally sat across from each other, she sat next to him. She placed a grounding hand between his shoulder blades. He leaned over his knees, exhausted.

“Its - it’s a lot.” Din’s laugh came out as a choked sob.

Edith sighed. “It’s been a long time coming. There is something else though.”

Din glanced over at Edith. She was so very close. He could see every strand of hair falling into her eyes and every freckle across her nose. If he took off his helmet he could have smelled her skin. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to lean into her. He knew she had felt everything that he had felt when Bodhi declared Din his father. He was afraid he wasn’t doing a very good job hiding his emotions now though.

Edith sat watching the impassive mask of the beskar helmet, Din’s turmoil bleeding through his warm back and into her like wet cloth on a hot pan. Belonging, acceptance, the desire the be needed… all of those things had been thrust upon him at once and he was overwhelmed. She wanted to lift off the helmet and hold him to herself, wrap him in her warmth and never let go. She wanted to hear whatever he had to say not through the mechanical filter of his mask, but against her skin. Whatever was causing him so much pain when he just felt so much joy, she wanted to see his eyes when he said it.

Din slowly turned to Edith, placing trembling hands on either side of her face and bringing her forehead to his helmet. Edith closed her eyes and reveled in the cool steel against her skin, daring to bring her hands up to Din’s neck and finding where she could reach in to find his warm skin there. They just sat there a moment, both trembling, knowing what this meant. 

“Edie,” Din pulled away a fraction of an inch. “my tribe, they’ve contacted me. They’re asking me to come home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know his name is really Grogu. My fic, my rules.  
> Dadita is Mandalorian Morse Code
> 
> Hipi olaror yaim: Sheep come home  
> Ad'ika: Little one  
> Buir: Parent mother/father


	9. The Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edith gets answers, Din is tested

Edith couldn’t sleep. The late hours of the night found her wandering the swamp with nothing but her thoughts for company. She hadn’t felt such turmoil since she had been asked to stay behind and train padawan instead of fight during the war. She had been relegated to drill Sargent, sending young Jedi in to become cannon fodder. She had hated it, but she did it. She had been asked to begin picking up and collecting the pieces of the Jedi and had been doing so ever since the fall of the Order. It crushed her, but she did it. She had done everything the Jedi had asked of her. Was she being selfish, asking the galaxy to give her one small thing in return? She could fulfill her promise and let out this feral, starving creature stalking within her, couldn’t she? Did it matter? 

Her feet took her to the Razor Crest, covered in vines, moss and lichen. If not for the Mandalorian coming regularly to service it, the ship might become part of the landscape. The sun was just beginning to consider rising as she leapt to the top of the ship and sat. She had already made peace with the fact that she loved Din Djarin and the Child - Bodhi. She just didn’t know how to express it. Edith knew nothing outside of being a Jedi, for all she had learned as a Consular. She could see the palace and the shape of the town where she sat, letting the thick breeze blow her unruly hair into her face, mirroring the untamed emotions flowing through her. Tears fell unhindered, dripping on to where she gripped her lightsaber in her lap.

A presence she hadn’t felt in decades appeared warm and familiar behind her. Edith choked back a sob, closing her eyes and letting relief spread through her. “Master.” She whispered.

The glowing blue shadow came to sit next to Edith, placing a soft hand on her padawan’s back. Master Bant Eedin smiled down at Edith fondly, large eyes taking in the withered posture of the woman next to her. “Child, why do you appear so broken?”

“I have failed Master. I have taken a padawan and I am training his father as well and I fear I -” Edith rambled, looking up at the face of her Mon Calamari Master, the familiarity stirring something inside her.

“I know, Child,” Master Eedin interrupted, “you’ve grown to love them. You always did mother your padawan learners.” Master Eedin laughed. “The Mandalorian though. He cares for you.”

Edith blinked up at her Master. “I think so. I feel his desires. He tries to hide them. He has his own…”

Master Eedin nodded. “Cognitive dissonance, yes. He must come to terms with what he knows of his life as a Mandalorian and the truth. You must be there for that. He possesses the history of what the Kyr’tsad truly was, but he doesn’t know it yet.”

Edith shook her head. “I don’t know if I can remain detached, Master. I don’t know if I can keep pushing him away.”

Master Eedin’s touch was but a suggestion on Edith’s chin as she brought the young woman’s face up to look at her. “Then don’t. The Jedi have left no legacy except dusty relics, secrets and regrets, child. What good has denying ourselves love done? I loved someone once. It is the one regret I have that I wasn’t able to express it while either of us lived.”

Edith’s face crumbled as she sobbed in earnest. “Thank you Master.”

Master Eedin smoothed back Edith’s hair. “Hush now, padawan. There are many trials ahead still. Focus yourself, and let go of your fear.”

Edith took a deep breath and nodded. When she opened her eyes, her Master was gone.

Edith returned to the cavern just as Din and Bodhi were getting ready for the day. She stood at the mouth of the cave, watching the Mandalorian in full armor pull on and clasp the cloak she had made for him. He then expertly hefted Bodhi onto his back and began wrapping the fabric around himself, tightening it like she had shown him so many moons ago. Bodhi noticed her and trilled, pointing to her. Din looked up and his body visibly relaxed seeing her standing there. 

“Are you OK? You… you hadn’t slept in your bed.” He finished the wrap and tied the last knot, approaching Edith slowly.

“I’m fine. I think we should forgo lessons today and prepare for your journey.” Edith grinned, coming up to Din and pulling on the wrap to test its strength. She was pleasantly surprised at how well he had wrapped Bodhi onto himself. 

“I’m not leaving today.” Din tilted his helmet just so, a gesture Edith knew meant he was attempting to be nonthreatening.

Edith went past, further inside. “Of course not, but there is much to do. We will finish your training in the next few days. And I insist you perform the gai bal Manda before you go. Bodhi deserves as much.” Edith’s face left no question as to the seriousness of her words. She knelt before the fire and began to set it alight.

Din watched her for a moment, feeling a sea change in the woman kneeling over the fire pit. There had always been a quiet confidence to her movements, but today they seemed to have more purpose. Bodhi wiggled against his back, drawing him out of his reverie. Din let him out of the wrap and set him down, setting to help Edith with breakfast.

Three days later, Din Djarin woke to an empty cave. His belongings, his armor, the weapons and ammunition he kept on himself were in his chamber when he woke, but Bodhi was absent from the little hammock where he usually slept. It was not usual for the little gremlin to sneak out and snuggle in with Edith some nights. He slipped on his helmet long enough to check the chromometer inside of it to see it was just before sunrise. Time inside the cavern was very similar to time in space, with no sun to guide one’s internal clock. He slipped out to use the refresher and it took long moments for him to notice that it was eerily empty of personal items. Din returned to his room and pulled on his clothing and helmet, attaching his armor by rote memory and stepping into the main cavern. Which was empty.

The fire pit was cold. The table where they prepared meals with gone, and the food along with it. The cot he had woke up on the day he met Edith and the ring of crates around the fire pit were all absent. Sheer panic hit the Mandalorian full force and he ran to Edith’s chamber. throwing back the canvas curtain, he found her room completely bare. The cavern across from Edith’s where the hot springs were held only a wooden stool.

“Edith!” Din ran for the entrance to the cave, fear and anger white-hot in his chest. Where the hell were they? “Bodhi?” He yelled out into the dank Vodran morning. He received no answer.

Din stilled for a moment and took several deep breaths. He used the infrared on his helmet to see if he could track either of them and found the floor of the cave to have no answers. 

“Fuck!” He was beside himself. He didn’t know where to even begin looking for them. Inside the palace? In the jungle? Should he go into town? His hunter’s instincts kicked in as he stood there. Both Edith and Bodhi were gone. They were likely together. All of their things were gone. He could have misplaced his trust. Edith could have been playing a long game and this was its conclusion. 

It took the Mandalorian most of the day to look for Edith and Bodhi finding them at the Razor Crest late in the afternoon. The ship’s side ramp was open and there was a wide circle of clear ground just outside of it, where Edith sat cross-legged, her lightsaber sitting across her knees. Bodhi saw his father and gurgled a happy hello up at him.

“I guess I should have started here. What’s this?” Din asked. There was a hint of humor in his voice. Until he considered that he had secured the ship the day before. “How did you get into the Crest?”

Edith lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I have ways. Put Bodhi in the ship. Only one of us is getting out of here alive Mandalorian.”

Din froze. “What is happening Edie?”

“Exactly what I told you would happen, Din.” Edith's sarcastic tone was one Din had never heard before and it threw him off. He tried not to let it show.

“I know you’re not taking Bodhi away from me.”

“I’m not? How will you stop me? You’re going to have to shoot me, Din.”

“What? Are you crazy? I’m not shooting you!” The baby looked up at the emotionless helmet in alarm, and Din looked back as if to reassure him. “I’m not shooting her.”

“Oh, but you are, Mandalorian.” Edith said sweetly. “Put the baby on the ship. Take that blaster off your hip and shoot. Me.”

Din sighed and set Bodhi on the ship at the top of the ramp. The baby whined with a concerned wrinkle of his forehead. The man in armor turned to face the Jedi who was still sitting on the damp ground. Edith was again in clothing meant to blend in to the population on Vodran, a simple dress and boots, her hair clipped back, but loose. Her lightsaber was still silent on her lap and she appeared tinier then, even sitting on the ground. Several feet away, Din towered over her, his armor glinting in the dull light of the rainforest, his figure imposing as he stood with his hands on his hips. “I’m not shooting you Edie. You’ll have to use one of your magic tricks to make me use my blaster.” He said, starting to pace. He was at once relieved to find them both safe and annoyed with this new game. Edith could sense that he was nervous

Edith looked up into the sky and sighed. “I won’t use Jedi mind tricks to make you shoot me, Din. I’ll use them to make you take off your helmet.” She looked over to where the man stood frozen to the spot.

“You wouldn’t.” His voice was low. It sent a shiver down Edith’s spine even though she had expected it.

She smiled brightly. “I would.” With glacial slowness, Edith raised her hand toward the Mandalorian. On the ship, Bodhi whined, and Din’s helmet began to vibrate around his head.

“Edie, stop!” Din yelled, finally bringing his blaster to bear. His jaw was clenched behind the beskar, finding it near impossible to look through the site at Edith. Bubbly, sweet Edith, who said she would never harm him, trying to take off his helmet, trying to see his face, take his child - his hands shook in anger and fear.

“You’re going to have to shoot me Din.” Edith pressed on and the helmet vibrated harder.

“Don’t, Edie!” Din pleaded.

“Shoot me!” Edith screamed back.

Din finally pulled the trigger and Edith was on her feet before the bolt even left the barrel. Her lightsaber deflected the shot perfectly, Edith spinning on the spot. When she stopped, Din stood vibrating in anger, Edith in astonishment. The plasma from the blaster bolt hung in the air inches from Din’s chest plate where Edith intended for it to strike. The pair turned to Bodhi sitting at the top of the ramp, his tiny arm outstretched, eyes clenched shut in concentration.

Din had seen this before, but Edith had not. The Mandalorian’s heart rose in his throat, knowing he had but seconds to stop his son from turning the hovering blaster bolt back on Edith. “Bodhi… we’re sparring. Let it go. Its not going to hurt me.” Din slowly approached his son with his hands out, moving away from the buzzing plasma. Edith left her lightsaber buzzing in her hand, understanding what Bodhi was intending to do.

Din and Edith glanced at one another.

“Bodhi. I am sorry. I would never hurt your buir. Edie’s sorry, Bodhi.” Edith extinguished her lightsaber and threw it to the ground in defeat. “I yield.”

Bodhi flicked his little three-fingered hand, sending the blaster bolt into the jungle, where it hit a tree and sizzled against it’s wet bark. 

Din collapsed to his knees, all of the anger bleeding out of him. Edith closed her eyes and visibly deflated. “I’m sorry, Din. Truly. It was a test. Your final test.”

“Did I pass?” Din asked as he stood and holstered his blaster. He picked Bodhi up from the ramp.

Edith called her lightsaber to herself and clipped it to her belt. “Come here.”

Holding Bodhi, Din met Edith where she stood and let her reach up underneath his helmet. Bodhi watched as she tied a piece of thread around a lock of Din’s hair, standing on her toes to reach. They were chest to chest, Edith’s expression playful as she let the baby watch what she was doing. She came back down and searched her pockets, bringing out one of her knives. Bodhi cooed with excitement and Din stood very still, leaning over slightly so Edith could reach. She cut the lock of hair and pulled back with a triumphant smile. 

“You passed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bant Eedin is a Mon Calamari Jedi Master who was good friends with Obi Wan Kenobi
> 
> Kyr'tsad: Death Watch  
> Gai bal Manda: adoption vow


	10. A Toast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Padawan becomes the Master

The hike back to the cavern was mostly silent, Bodhi sleeping while strapped to Edith’s back. Any other day, the Mandalorian would walk quickly, his normal long-legged gait making Edith work double time to keep up. Today he walked slower, glancing back occasionally, and earning a sunny smile from Edith in return. 

“Can I ask you something?” Din finally broke the silence as their path widened and they could walk side by side. Edith just hummed affirmatively and encouraged him to continue. “Why insist I attack you? How did I pass? I shot you even though I knew you were bluffing.”

Edith stopped in the path. “Does it matter if I was bluffing? The test was not to determine if you could tell whether or not I was bluffing. It was to test your trust in me. You would have allowed me to remove your helmet if you didn’t truly believe I could have blocked that blaster shot. You intend to leave me with your child. I want both of us to know the weight of that.”

Din searched Edith’s earnest gaze. With one gloved finger he gently moved an errant curl from her forehead, nudging it from her eyes and following her hairline down to her jaw. “You amaze me, cyare.” His hand dropped, balling into a fist at his side, wanting to draw her closer to him so badly. Edith just returned his gaze, biting her lower lip.

On Edith’s back, Bodhi stirred, letting out a hungry whine. “Himself is hungry. We should get back.” Edith smiled sheepishly, suddenly very shy. She bit her lip harder.

“Don’t…” He used a gloved thumb to pull Edith’s lip from her teeth. Her eyes went wide with surprise. “Don’t do that.” He turned back to the path.

“OK?” Edith frowned.

“Distracting.” Din kept walking, Edith following with a confused smile on her face.

They worked late into the night to restore the cavern to it’s home-like state. Edith was hanging the lanterns in her quarters, planning to turn in for the night. Din entered carrying a crate, setting it down with the others around the recessed floor that made up Edith’s bed. 

“That should be the last one.” Din stated simply. 

Edith turned with the lantern in her hand and smiled. “Thank you.” She started to reach up to place the lantern near the ceiling of the chamber, pushing it the last few feet with the Force. It slid gently onto the hook, casting a golden glow onto the stone walls.

“I’ll never get used to that.” Din said quietly. He leaned against the door of the chamber, still in full armor.

“Be glad you never have to! Being tall is a gift, Din Djarin.” Edith quipped with a grin. She caught Din’s laugh through the helmet’s modulator as she slipped off her boots and stepped into her freshly made bed. “Bodhi is down for the night. You should sit with me.” Edith tried to keep her voice level and nonchalant, but her stomach flipped with nerves as she asked the Mandalorian in full beskar armor to sit with her in her bed. 

Din froze for a moment, mouth suddenly dry. “Ah. Yes. Just… give me a moment.” He disappeared from Edith’s space, leaving her even more nervous.

Feeling her face and chest heating, Edith pulled off her dress and folded it neatly, placing it next to the bed as she usually did. She still wore her usual underdress, a simple sleeveless shift. She reached for a shawl, feeling too vulnerable all of a sudden. Just as she pulled the familiar fabric around herself, Din returned, carrying a bottle of something Edith didn’t recognize, wearing only his base layers and helmet. He released the tie on the thick canvas curtain that served as a door to the chamber, and turned to see Edith in her sleep clothes, hands fidgeting in her lap, pointedly attempting to keep her bottom lip from between her teeth.

“I couldn’t find the glasses.” Din toed off his boots and gingerly stepped onto Edith’s bed. He was caught off balance with the bottle in his hand, Edith reaching out to take it as he sat. 

“Alderanian whiskey?” Edith’s eyebrows rose reading the label on the bottle.

“Liberated it from the Palace stash.” Din took out a knife and cut the wax seal on the whiskey. The clasp top came off the bottle with a loud pop, earning Din a surprised squeal from Edith that she would later deny and that he found ridiculously adorable. “Turn around.” Din said softly, going up on his knees to do the same.

They sat back to back on Edith’s bed, the presence and body heat of the other person a comforting weight. 

“What are we drinking to?” Edith asked shyly.

“Passing my test?” Din had slipped off his helmet, and the sound of his natural voice, unencumbered by the modulator, sent a shiver down Edith’s spine.

Edith sat up, stiff and shocked. “You… you took off…”

Din’s laugh just moved through them both, honeyed and warm. “Yes, cyare. So don’t look.” He took a long pull from the bottle of whisky, wincing as it hit the back of his throat. He took a smaller pull and attempted to awkwardly pass it to Edith. He nudged her with his shoulder. “Drink. Makes this bit easier.”

Edith took the bottle from the warm, uncovered hand from behind her. The rim was wet, the liquid inside fragrant. “What bit is this, then?” She asked, lifting the bottle to her lips. She took the tiniest of sips, the liquor burning hot on her tongue. It was not the buttery malt she expected from color of the bottle.

Din sighed, pressing his strong back against Edith’s much smaller one, wishing the liquid courage would take hold quicker. “The bit where we talk about the bantha in the room.” He let his head fall back, nearly able to rest his head on the crown of Edith’s own. Behind him, Edith took a swig of the whiskey. She coughed and sputtered as it hit her throat, her eyes watering. Din laughed again. “You ok?”

“That… that tastes like pod racer fuel, Din!” Edith held the bottle back and cleared her froggy throat. 

“Virgin then, eh?” Din took the bottle and took another long pull, still grinning.

Edith floundered even more. “Is _that_ the bantha in the room? Because… give me that bottle back!” She held her hand out.

Din realized what he had said. “No - Edie - No!”

“Bottle, Din!” Edith demanded. 

Din handed the whiskey back and rubbed both his hands over his face, grateful Edith couldn’t see him, helmet or no helmet. Edith’s entire body was flushed red, warm from alcohol and the conversation. She took a big sip, bracing for the burn in her throat. It went down much easier.

“Sorry, Edie, I meant the liquor.” He said quietly. He took the bottle back when Edith offered it back to him.

Edith leaned back into the radiating warmth of Din’s back, pulling her shawl more firmly around her shoulders. “I know… and yes,” She said quietly, “On both counts.” She took a deep breath and continued. “Remember the first day you were truly well? And you thought me, the Jedi, crazy for remaining celibate? I thought… I had my own prejudices, I guess. It’s been difficult to keep you at an arms length, Din…. And I’m done.”

Din let his thumb slide around the opening of the bottle, slick with liquor where Edith had just pulled a drink from, trying to keep his mind within the confines of the small cave the two of them occupied, to stay in the moment. He had long imagined how this moment could go, and none of his fantasies had ever envisioned this. He could feel her pressed against him, was surrounded by her smell and could feel her voice move through him every time she spoke. It wasn’t the heady, desperate groping confessions and declarations he thought would fall from their lips as they gave in to everything they had been holding back.

Edith felt Din trembling against her. “Edie… Do you know what you’re saying... what you're asking for?” His voice was low and soft… dangerous even. Edith could sense the tension in him coiling tighter by the second, the careful viper’s dance they had been doing finally coming to an end in the only way it could.

Edith reached back for the bottle of whiskey, which Din passed without comment, letting his fingers linger on hers until she pulled away. Edith took a healthy pull from the bottle and passed it back. “I can get into the bunk on the Razor Crest, Din.” Edith said demurely, as Din raised the bottle to his own lips. “The one in the forest and the one in your mind.”

Din choked on the drink, spitting it into his lap with a cough. “What?” He croaked. 

With the reflexes and grace only known to Jedi, Edith turned out the lantern in the corner with a nudge of the Force and spun to straddle a very flustered Mandalorian, now completely plunged into darkness. Edith pressed her flushed forehead against Din’s, her lips mere centimeters from his, still wet with liquor. Her strong hands cradled his head, fingers tangled in his own unruly hair. He had to hold her around her waist to keep from tipping back with the sudden change in balance. Edith’s warmth breath fanned across his lips and the weight of her felt so _right_ in his arms.

“I know what I’m asking for, cyare.” Edith whispered, “But I need your guidance now. Swear you will come back to us and I will be your student.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cyare: beloved, sweetheart


	11. Please and Thank You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Chapter 10

“Nothing but death could keep me from it.” Din’s voice was sure against Edith’s lips before he pressed forward to kiss her. A soft moan, more felt than heard, escaped the back of Edith’s throat and it was the most beautiful sound Din Djarin had ever heard.

He wanted to claim her mouth, pull her against him and take her apart piece by precious piece until she was a quivering mess in his hands. As it was, in the dark of her room, she was a warm, fragile weight, trusting him with everything she didn’t know she wanted. He gently sucked her lower lip into his mouth, earning a gasp that gave his sweet and clever tongue access to her mouth. His arms completely wrapped around her, enveloping her in his calming warmth and he lead this dance with grace and patience. She tasted like whiskey and cinnamon, the scent of her lifting every time he ran his hands through her hair. He felt her strong but small body trembling against him, his hands able to hold the entirety of her throat with one hand. Coming up for air, he gathered the volume of her hair and pushed it aside so he could nuzzle the soft skin beneath her ear.

“Is this what you wanted, Edie?” Din asked, his voice a breathy whisper against her feverish skin. She answered with a groan as big, warm hands slid down her body to her thighs leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Din huffed a little laugh before licking her earlobe with the tip of his tongue and then catching it in his teeth, pulling it in to gently suck, plucking out a whine from Edith’s chest. His chest rumbled with another laugh, moving in to lave at her throat. One of her hands remained anchored in Din’s own curly hair, absently scratching at his scalp, the other wrapped around his wrist, following it as he touched her. 

Din’s mouth on her throat was as overwhelming as his mouth on hers, and Edith couldn’t get enough of either. He strained to hold her still as she moved against him; he thought she had no idea how arousing her unintentional undulations in his lap were. She pulled him into a deep, searing kiss and guided his hand up her thigh beneath the hem of her shift, her whole body shaking as Din’s hand found where her leg joined her body, his thumb stalling at the blazing heat of her. Her arms wound around his shoulders to steady herself and she had to pull away to catch her breath. Edith’s mouth found the corded muscle of Din’s throat, his pulse thundering beneath the skin. She licked off the beads of sweat she found there, humming at the taste of him and blowing a thin current of air against it. The resulting groan and whole-body shiver from the man beneath her made her grin against his shoulder.

Feather-light fingers traced the shape of Din’s face, attempting to build a map Edith could pull together in her mind. His long eyelashes and aquiline nose, a hint of facial hair, a ticklish spot just below an endearing dimple that caused her stomach to flip. She followed her fingers with her lips, pressing them against each newfound feature in turn. She traced the bow of his upper lip with her thumb, enjoying the dual sensation of his mustache and kiss-swollen skin. She kissed each of his lips before his patience broke and he claimed her whole mouth with a growl. Edith could do nothing except be claimed and let herself be pressed down further into his lap. 

Din’s hands tried to be everywhere at once and nowhere at all, attempting to keep from overwhelming Edith and wanting to absorb her into himself at the same time. Big hands pushed the light fabric of her shift away from her knees, up her thighs, the warmth painting in the picture neither could see the absolute dark of the cave. Their weight blazed a path up her body to her ribcage, to the swell of her breasts and stopped there, feeling her breath leave her lungs in impassioned moans. Edith’s smaller hands reached down and pulled off the shift, tossing it away, leaving her completely bare save for her underskirt.

“Now you.” Edith all but whispered, reaching for the hem of Din’s shirt. He was caught off guard; the desire to see the woman in his lap making him dizzy. He acquiesced, pulling off his shirt and carelessly tossing it away. 

The tension in their little bubble increased tenfold. Neither of them had been so close to anyone without the added layer of clothing. Even in the dark, or perhaps because of it, the sensation of skin and warmth and the buzz of another person’s Force energy was magnetic. They could taste their humanity on the air, the musk of sweat and the arousal building between them. They were both trembling with it: Edith like a new foal and Din as if he was holding spun glass.

With a sense of reverence, cradling her shoulders, Din bowed his head and placed a loving kiss at the base of Edith’s throat. “Ner karta, ner me’suum’ika, ner jetii.” His voice echoed through her. He turned Edith and lay her down on the bed, letting her hands map every lithe muscle and sinewy tendon of his body as his lips followed her sternum down and down and down. Finally her hand found his and she guided him to her breast, giving him the permission he was waiting for. Din tucked his chin into the warmth of Edith’s neck and nuzzled her there as his clever fingers taught her sensitive breasts what they could do. He held her tightly against him with his other arm as she writhed against him, drawing out delicious sounds from them both. He gave each breast equal attention, suckling at Edith’s earlobe and nipping at her pulse point until she mewled brokenly next to him. “You like this cyare.” It was not a question, but a revelation, and Din couldn’t help but press his own arousal against Edith’s hip to relieve _some_ tension. He was a disciplined man, but he was being severely tested. 

Edith felt Din’s erection against her hip and grinned in the darkness. While inexperienced, she was not completely naive. She moved her leg experimentally against him again, eliciting a filthy groan and a hard nip on her collarbone. She did it a third time and he groaned deeper, this time moving away and replacing clever fingers with an even more clever mouth, Edith groaning now. She plunged her hands into his hair as his mouth made love to her breasts, her back arching off the bed to meet him. Having never been touched, her body sang for him. He was painfully hard in the confines of his pants but chose to ignore it, wanting to help his lover make up for a lifetime of self-denial. 

With a hard pull to his hair and a Jedi’s grace, Edith wrapped her legs around Din’s waist and urged him into a desperate kiss. She pulled him down into the cradle of her hips and he couldn’t help but grind down into her heat. Flush against each other, wrapped together, the Force stilled in their minds and whispered, _Home, Safe, Right._

Edith rocked her hips up to feel Din’s manhood against her, drawing a strangled gasp from him, enjoying the slow drag of it against her as his tongue danced in her mouth. It was a sensation she had never known and wanted to chase. As she tried to do it again, Din’s hands stilled her and he pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Edie, you keep doing that and this will end sooner than either of us want.” He tried to catch his breath, Edith’s hands finding his own sensitive nipples, becoming a distraction.

“Show me then.” Edith was going to ruin Din Djarin.

Din spread his hands over Edith’s stomach, feeling the entirely of her soft skin, reaching up through her ribcage. Edith stretched like a lothcat and hummed happily. Coming down, Din pulled off her underskirt, leaving her completely bare to him. In the complete darkness, he could only feel the heat rising in Edith’s body, longing to see the way her chest would flush red. He brought his hands down each leg, tenderly caressing each foot before smoothing his hands back up Edith’s legs once more, eliciting a full-body shiver. He moved to lay next to her, and she reached out, pulling on the ties to his laced trousers.

“You first.” Din took Edith’s hand and kissed her wrist.

Edith hesitated. “I’ll get to touch you?” Din imagined Edith had her bottom lip in her teeth.

“Yes.” He replied, before pulling her to him to feel the entire weight of her naked body against him. He kissed her deeply, holding her against himself, letting his other hand skim over the planes of her body: her freckled shoulder to her pale back and down to her firm bottom, the strong muscles of her thigh and behind the delicate bend of her knee. He brought her leg over his hip and massaged the defined muscle of her calf, before moving up her leg, his hand never leaving her skin. His thumb found the hollow space made by her hip bone and stopped to rub a circle there, pulling back from their kiss. “I need to open you up, cyare. I dont want to hurt you.”

Edith tugged at Din’s shoulder. “Please just touch me, Din.” 

He tucked her face into his shoulder and cupped his hand over her sex, her heat burning his palm. With two fingers he parted her, finding her already slick with desire. Edith’s hand in his hair tightened, the other on his arm flexed until he felt the bite of her nails on his bicep. His fingers moved up to find the sensitive bundle of nerves nestled in the hair guarding her sex, her entire body convulsing in his arms. He held her tighter as he worked her clit between his fingers, pressing deeper into her folds, reaching farther along her sex and drawing up more moisture with each pass. Edith’s body trembled in his arms, her hips rolling toward his in an unconscious rhythm. Din whispered as he touched her, each word heightening her arousal, tethering her to the sensations he was drawing on her body.

“You feel so good, Edie. I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long… Mesh’la. This is all for you cyare.”

Din focused his attention on Edie’s clitoris, rubbing in small tight circles, feeling her tense against him as high-pitched whines swam up her throat. “It’s ok, Edie, let go. Come for me, cyar’ika.” 

Edith’s head fell back, her entire body taut as she climaxed, her mouth open in a silent scream. Din could feel her muscles convulsing and stopped his ministrations, letting Edie ride it out. A shocked gasp left her as she curled back into him shaking. “Fuck. Din. How… I can’t even…” Edith was barely coherent. Din just smiled against her temple and held her, aftershocks wracking her body. He kissed her softly over all the places he could reach, drawn-out presses of his lips against her blistering skin. “Is it always like that?” Edith asked in the dark, easing away from where she was pressed against her lover.

Din considered for a moment. “No. Not always.” Edith absently played with the ties to Din’s trousers, waiting for him to continue. “Sometimes it’s quick, or more drawn out. Dirty and just something you have to get out of your system…. But that was just a taste, cyar’ika.”

Edith’s fingers moved to trace the outline of Din’s erection through his trousers, a whole-body groan moving through him as she cupped him through the fabric. “Show me more, then.” Emboldened, she kissed him long and deep, unlacing the trousers and leaving her Mandalorian temporarily speechless. It was Edith’s turn to wish they could see each other as Din helped her pull himself out of his pants, her delicate fingers hot against the silky skin of him. She wrapped her hand around him, lightly moving her fist over his length, Din exhaling a strained hiss.

Through the thick haze of Force energy moving between them, Edith felt Din’s prickling desire. She gathered her mass of curly hair and lay back down next to him, pulling him back to her. “Show me what to do.”

Incrementally Din relaxed into Edith’s arms, wrapping his hand around hers on him, tightening her grasp. “Edie… So sweet to me….” Din rasped as Edith touched him, used her mouth on his throat and thread the fingers of her other hand through his hair. A thick drop of precum formed and he helped Edie spread it over him; she understood as their joined hands continued to build the delicious friction. She stopped them both with a kiss and dipped into her own heat, so close to where their hands were already, bringing back her own thick moisture to assist. “Maker, Fuck.” Din moaned out when he realized what Edith had done. Inspired, and confident in his teaching, he left his student stroking his painfully hard cock, reaching down to touch her again, parting her drenched folds with ease and finding her clit still engorged and sensitive. 

Edith whined, her body snapping to attention once more. Din’s thick fingers matched the pace of Edith’s hand, and he kissed her harder. “I want to be inside you so badly, Edie. I want to feel you fall apart around me.” Din said, his lips against hers. He slipped two fingers inside, her body accepting the intrusion without protest, but only just. Edith cried out at the change in sensation, Din immediately slowing. “You ok?” 

“Gods, yes!” Edith could barely speak through her labored breath. Din moved over her and pulled her hands from him, slowly separating himself. They were both panting, sweating, Din’s leaking cock hung between their bodies in the dark.

The Mandalorian’s voice was low and vulnerable, piercing Edith’s heart. “I want you so badly, Edie. Please tell me… Can I… Can we…”

Edith cut him off by reaching up and pulling him down to her, finding his face in the blackness and pouring her heart into her kiss. “Please?” It was all she had to say. She draped her arms over him, tucking his head into her shoulder as he brought her legs over his hips and entered her body in one swift thrust. A broken moan in his ear was the only sound he heard, no cries of pain or words asking him to stop as he had feared. Her breasts pressed against his naked chest and her lips on his were the only things he needed to spurn him on to move within her, the sweet sound of her desire filling the cave with every thrust. And when he finished inside her, the only words he had were _“Thank you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cyare: Beloved  
> Cyar'ika: Sweetheart  
> Mesh'la: beautiful  
> Ner karta, ner me’suum’ika, ner jetii: My heart, my moon, my Jedi
> 
> Comments are love ya'll!


	12. Gai Bal Manda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din claims Bodhi as his Son. Bodhi claims something else... Din asks for more. Edith makes an important off-hand observation.

The next week proved stressful for all of them. Bodhi could sense a new lightness between Edith and his father, a sensation that made him giggle whenever they were in each other’s space. Beside that lightness, tension grew as the days until the Mandalorian would leave for Dantooine ticked down. Their days were spent retrieving what relics and scripts Edith thought important to take off-world and packing them away, ferrying them to the Razor Crest. Edith packed crates with as much “real food” as she could, canned and preserved, insisting ration bars were a last resort, after tauntaun meat. A whole day was spent just cleaning the Razor Crest and getting it up to the Jedi’s standards, while the Mandalorian stood by and let her fuss. 

In the mornings they sparred, Bodhi’s squeals of delight pealing off the cavern walls and throughout the jungle as Din chased down Edith with his blaster set to stun, while she blocked and dodged every shot with eerie grace and agility. Edith had fashioned wooden pegs for Bodhi that he could Force-push at her while strapped tightly to his father’s chest. Din would stalk the Jedi, giving his son instruction in a low voice as they went, advising him when to strike. Bodhi would send a wooden bolt through the air toward his target, which Edith usually deflected effectively. Every now and then Edith would allow a hit to land, stumbling out of the underbrush and collapsing, perishing dramatically in front of Bodhi. 

The nights were spent making up for lost time, though less in the dark sharing their bodies than in the light holding each other and sharing their thoughts. Three days before his departure, Din held Edith before the fire, Bodhi sound asleep in his room, trying to find a way to bottle the moment to carry with him. The woman in his lap had her hands threaded through his resting across her stomach, comfortable even though he still wore all of his armor. 

“The comm link is set up. I left it beside your bed.” Edith just hummed, affirming that she had heard the Mandalorian. “Do you still think it’s safe to contact you directly? I can always relay through Maz.” Din’s thumb grazed across Edith’s knuckles in lazy patterns.

“I thought we were going to set up a secondary relay on Carida?” Edith asked, sinking deeper into his embrace.

“I don’t want to use your clearance codes there, cyare.”

Edith smiled up at Din. “Use my master’s codes, Din. I have those and many more memorized. I’ll give them to you before you go.”

Din smoothed Edith’s hair away from her face with an ungloved hand. “We would make a formidable team.” He sighed. “I wish I could take you with me.”

“We are safer here, Din. Even the Hutts are off-world more than planet-side.” Edith traced the edge of Din’s armor where it had been damaged the day they met, a tangible reminder of their time together.

Din’s laugh vibrated through his chest. “You continue to amaze me, Edie.” 

“Buir?” A little voice cooed from behind them. Edith sat up and they both found big brown eyes, red-rimmed with sleep in the darkness.

“What’s wrong little one?” Edith opened her arms and Bodhi waddled over, letting himself be scooped up. He held a small beaded necklace in one chubby hand. “Where did you find this, eh?”

Din shifted his hold and looked at what Bodhi was holding. “Its just a trinket someone gave him in the crowd during the festival. I thought he’d lost it” Bodhi held it up and smiled.

“So pretty!” Edith smiled. “What are you doing out of bed, hmm?”

“Bodhi trikar’la.” Big ears drooped down.

Din and Edith looked at each other, feeling Bodhi’s sadness wash over them both. 

“I’m coming back to you, ad’ika, I promise.” Din ran a hand over Bodhi’s long ears. “Edie is the only person I would ever leave you with.” Bodhi passed the little wooden beads through his hands, which seemed to soothe him.

“Edie will take good care of you, Bodhi. Buir will be back before you know it. Bodhi will learn so much and we can show buir all you’ve learned when he comes home.” Edith gave the baby a watery smile and tweaked his tiny nose. 

Bodhi’s little hand came up to touch his father’s helmet, “Buir,” he said clearly. He plucked at his little robe, shaking it for effect, “Bodhi.” he said. With the same little hand he touched Edith’s cheek. “Buir.” He said again.

Din and Edith were silent and still for a moment. Bodhi knew much more than he could say, thought he was learning more every day. As the child’s meaning became clear, tears sprang to Edith’s eyes. She looked back at Din for confirmation. 

Din took two fingers and touched his kar’ta beskar, “Buir,” then touched Bodhi’s head, “Ad’ika,” then Edith’s chest, “Bu-”

“Buir!” Bodhi finished with a laugh. 

Edith began to laugh with him, reduced to tears. She pulled her little green son into her arms and held him tightly to herself. “Ner adiik. Ner mesh’la adiik.”

Holding his little family tightly, the Mandalorian bit his lip to keep from crying himself. He let Edith and Bodhi fall asleep there and carried them to Edith’s bed, where he quietly slipped off his helmet and kissed them both goodnight. He watched them both for a moment, the two beings he cared for most in the galaxy. His heart clenched at the thought of leaving them in just a few short days.

Din slipped back out into the main cavern and pulled out a piece of obsidian he had been working with for several weeks, polishing it one last time. He attached a sturdy bail to the piece and thread a delicate silver chain through it. He brought the stone to his naked forehead, pressing a silent prayer into it’s silky surface. Slipping it into a small leather pouch, he added it to a packet on his bandolier and went to rest with his family.

Bodhi and Edith exited the ship, both wearing black clothing Din had never seen before. The world was bathed in the haze of twilight, stars just beginning to show themselves in the sky. The only other light was the bonfire he had built while he waited for them. His armor was polished and perfect, though nothing could be as perfect as his son and the Jedi standing at the entrance of the Razor Crest. Edith’s hair was pulled back into a braid woven with flowers and ribbons, her skin glowing in stark contrast to black fabric layers of her dress. It was simple, but elegant in a way that was so very _her_. Next to her, Bodhi wore a simple black robe, much like the one he always wore, but this one was made of linen, with a silver mudhorn signet stitched on the back catching the firelight as they slowly made their way toward him.

Din met them at the bottom of the ramp, being very formal as he went to one knee and picked up Bodhi, then rising to offer Edith his hand. They stood in front of the fire together, smiling down at Bodhi. Edith gestured to the baby and Din gently placed him in her arms.

“I know the Gai bal Manda is very short and to the point, but I have a few words for my son.” Edith reached for Din’s hand. “Bodhi, you may not be flesh of our flesh, nor bone of our bone, but you are, nevertheless, our very own. Never forget, though you were not created beneath our hearts, you were created within them. Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad Bodhi Djarin.” Edith squeezed Din’s hand and passed Bodhi back to him. She could feel his tension next to her, and she kept a grounding hand on his arm.

Din looked down into the innocent, inky orbs of Bodhi’s eyes and couldn’t speak around the lump in his throat. The words he intended to speak seemed so simple and yet weighed so heavily. Bodhi had been his son for a long time, that much was true. He never thought this day would come, though. He never thought he would ever truly be a father and yet, nothing else had ever felt more right. He swallowed thickly and met Edith’s reassuring smile.

“Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad Bodhi Djarin.” Din brought the brow of his helm to his son’s wrinkled green forehead and they stood there for a long moment.

“Buir.” Bodhi chirped, gently petting the beskar of his father’s helmet. Din and Edith both let out a long-held watery laugh and embraced each other around Bodhi. 

Edith went to pull away, but Din held fast to her hand. She looked up at him in amused confusion. Din gently sat Bodhi next to him on the ground and went down on one knee. From a pocket he pulled the small leather pouch and opened it, letting the obsidian pendant fall into his hand. He took Edith’s hands and placed the necklace there.

“Edie, I feel like I’ve lived my life backward, saying goodbye to the mother of my child. I’ve never even shared my true face with you, and I want to so, so badly. I swore to you I will come back to you and I will. The galaxy gave me such a gift when it brought me to you. If you’ll have me, I… I want you to be a part of our clan. My ridduur, my wife.” His voice was barely a whisper on the breeze as he finished. Edith couldn’t speak around her tears, her cupped hands catching them as they fell onto the carved stone mudhorn where she held it, shaking. She could only nod and give Din a watery smile, afraid of what would happen if she opened her mouth to say yes.

They made camp there in front of the Razor Crest, Bodhi snuggling into Edith’s lap after a decent meal. The night noises and the sound of the campfire rose as the sun completely fell below the horizon, the heat of the day melting into a cool breeze. Edith sat beside the fire staring up at the sky, enjoying the quiet. She let her mind relax, sensing no danger as far as she could reach. Regardless, Din was checking the perimeter around their little haven, ever the protector. Bodhi fussed as Din took his time, Edith looked down at him with a smile.

“Would you like a song, padawan? Hmm?” Edith rocked Bodhi as she sang, her voice a beautiful, clear, lilting brogue that sent chills through the Mandalorian as he rounded the Razor Crest just as she began to sing.

“Of all the credits that e’er I had  
I’ve spent it in good company  
And all the harm that e’er I done  
Alas it was to none but me  
For all I’ve done for want of wit  
To memory now I can’t recall  
So fill to me the parting glass  
Good night and joy be with you all”

Din slowly made his way back over to the fire, where Bodhi watched Edith with heavy-lidded eyes and played with the pendant hung around her neck with his little three-fingered hand. Edith didn’t pause though, only looking up with those impossible green eyes and reaching up to invite Din to sit next to her. Instead, he sat behind her, pulling himself as close as possible to her back, putting him between a piece of wood from the forest and Edith’s body. He crossed his legs around her where she sat.

“Of all the comrades that e’er I had  
They’re sorry for my going away  
And of all the sweethearts that e’er I had  
They’d wish me one more day to stay  
But as it falls unto my lot  
That I must go and you must not  
I’ll gently rise and I’ll softly call  
Good night and joy be with you all.”

Din enveloped Edith from behind, and pressed the side of his helmet against her temple. “Mesh’la.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. Below them, the Palace was still and silent, the shipyard quiet. Edith absently thought that there seemed to be fewer lights on in the town than usual. Her thoughts turned to her family though, as Bodhi snuffled in his sleep and Din held her a little bit tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cyare: beloved  
> Trikar'la: sad  
> Buir: father/mother  
> Ad'ika: little one  
> Gai bal Manda: adoption vow  
> Ner adiik: my child  
> Mesh'la: beautiful  
> Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad: I know your name as my child  
> Ridduur: Spouse
> 
> Song is Parting Glass- find Hozier’s version
> 
> Stuff is about to get real ya’ll. Comments fuel writing!


	13. The Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A message is delivered too late.

Bodhi strapped to her back, Edith was full-out sprinting through the palace halls. One blade of her lightsaber was glowing green in her hand as she ran, jumping over the occasional obstacle, twisting around anything that threatened to slow her down. She came to the loading bay, the harsh light of the dock showing the dried tears on her face in stark relief. She ran out into the shipyard and stopped, her arms pinwheeling to slow her as she looked up into the sky. The entire town was thrown into shadow by the ominous bulk of Moff Gideon’s light cruiser hovering over the shipyard.

After watching the Razor Crest leave the atmosphere, Edith had taken Bodhi back to the cavern, both of them quiet. The holopad in Edith’s chamber was beeping when they entered, for only the second time since she had gone into hiding. She dug the device out of a crate of clothing, activating it to find a message from Maz Kanata, her enormous eyes punctuating every word.

“Edith Marshal, Din Djarin, you are being surveilled on Vodran. You must leave. I fear Ex-Imperials have your location. Word of impending ISB occupation has reached the Hutts and they are abandoning their claim to the settlement. Make haste. May the Force Be With You.” The holo ended and Edith looked at Bodhi, his ears plastered to his head. He might not know the details, but he sensed the gravity of the words. 

“How?” Edith breathed out in a panicked whisper, reaching out to play the holo again. Bodhi snuggled into her side on the bed. The date on the holo read as having been recorded two days prior, the encoded and scrambled message taking nearly two extra days to be relayed through several other planets. Edith’s heart began hammering in her chest. She grabbed the commlink next to her bed and with trembling hands switched it to the direct channel for the Razor Crest, hoping Din hadn’t gone to light speed yet. “Din, please come in, it’s Edie.” She was met with static, her voice lost to the void of space.

Bodhi placed a little hand on his mother’s arm, trilling low and trying to comfort her. wrapped in his little hand was the beaded necklace he had been give at the solstice. Something clicked in Edith’s head then and she took the little trinket, Bodhi giving a cry of protest. Edith threw it on the stone floor and stomped on the largest of the wooden beads with the heel of her boot. The bead cracked like a nut, revealing circuitry and wiring, giving off a sad spark as the device died and ceased to function. Edith and Bodhi looked at each other and then back down at the broken necklace. Edith stomped on the other large beads, revealing more electronic components. “How did I not see this, Bodhi?” Edith breathed out a heavy sigh. 

Edith sprung into action, yanking off her clothing and grabbing her knife holsters. She strapped on every weapon she owned and layered on several sets of clothing. She put her son in two robes as well and strapped him to her body. They would be leaving with only the clothes on their backs, so they may as well bring as many as possible. She tucked the commlink into her pocket and stuffed a few more essential items into a bag. She double checked that Bodhi had his mythosaur pendant and she had her mudhorn, finally clipping her lightsaber to her belt. 

With one last look at the cavern she had called home for countless years, where she had finally found love and where she had finally found her family, Edith Marshal left through the Palace exit of the cave, running for the shipyard.

The light cruiser blocked out the midday sun like a solar eclipse. Edith stood at the entrance of the bay thinking, chest heaving from her sprint through the palace. She figured there were still ships beneath the shipyard, the one she had arrived in may still be there, even. But leaving the planet so close to an Imperial cruiser, she was sure to be detected and shot down. At the very least she would be facing TIE Fighters before she even left the atmosphere. The binary blips of an Astromech sounded from behind her, sounding as panicked as Edith felt. The little red and white R3 unit twittered and rocked back and forth.

“Slow down, slow down.” Edith listened as the droid quickly repeated itself. On her back, Bodhi strained to see the source of the commotion. With a sigh, Edith went down on one knee, cleaning the droid’s eye with her sleeve. “Whenever you’re ready, R3.”

The droid’s lights blinked a countdown at Edith and it bathed her upper half in bluish-white light. 

“Din, if you’re seeing this, you’ve just left Vodran and Moff Gideon is here. He’s known the child was here all along. I got Maz’ comm just after we said goodbye. I’ve been blinded by… ” Edith’s voice cracked and her face fell. With a deep, calming breath she continued, “I don’t have much time. This droid is the one you commanded to protect your son with it’s life and that is the only command it has ever received. The Hutts never used it. Trust it. I am giving it coordinates that will lead you to me. It will take only you. Please trust this droid, Din. Trust me. Ni kar’taylir darasuum. May the Force be with you.”

Edith cut off the recording and showed the droid her Djarin Clan signet. “The Mandalorian who commanded you to protect this child, he will have this symbol on his right shoulder. He will need to use you as his Astromech. Give no one these coordinates, input them straight into the ship.” Edith let the little droid open his manual input and she entered a string of numbers. “It is imperative that no one know these coordinates, understand?” The droid gave a sad trill. Edith rubbed it’s domed top and smiled at it. “Thank you R3. Under the stairs to the kitchens, wait for the Mandalorian there.” The droid blipped in the affirmative and rolled away back into the palace. 

Edith looked back out into the port once more and steadied herself, replaying the instructions from her little droid friend. Loosening the wrap that held Bodhi to her, she took off running to the underground hangar, opposite where the droid had disappeared.

Through a dark passageway, Edith came into a huge cavern, many times larger than the one she had been calling home. The ceiling was cut through with two huge blast doors that would open out into the port and the sky above, blocked by the light cruiser. Just as the droid had told her, six ships were sitting in the hangar, their Astromechs at the ready. A little army of forgotten droids, ready to help her escape the abandoned palace. Two Dunelizards, two M3 class Scyk fighters and a Kimilogia Heavy were un-blocked. The cockpit of an M22-T Krayt gunship sat open at the back of the hangar, waiting for Edith.

“Oh, little R3, I owe you.” Edith ran for the Krayt ship, tucking Bodhi into the pilot’s seat. She swung herself into the gunner’s seat and slipped the headset on. From her place in the gunner seat she could input coordinates. She set the nav and hailed the hangar droid, just as the R3 unit had instructed. “T3-M5, we’re go for launch.” The T5 unit blipped over the comm and the hanger doors began to open. 

The instant the first of the two Dunelizards could fit through the hangar doors, the Astromech-piloted ships were away. The third ship was the Kimilogia and by the time it was airborne, two TIE fighters had joined the Dunelizards in the sky. Astromechs weren’t known to be the best pilots, nor the best in a firefight, but their split-second calculations and lack of fear made them formidable. Moff Gideon’s ship wasn’t receiving an answer if it was hailing any of the ships leaving the hanger, and the chase soon became a firefight. The Scyk fighters were next to go, joining the fray just as two more TIE fighters left the light cruiser. None of the Hutt ships had left the atmosphere yet, each one set for a different destination. They circled the Palace and the town in a low formation, swooping over the hanger, giving Edith time to join their dance. She joined their firefight, coming in hot with ion cannons blazing and taking out a TIE fighter in a blaze of spiraling debris as soon as she exited the hangar. 

Bodhi gave a squeal of delight as Edith continued dodging and maneuvering the ship, fighting alongside the Astromechs, flying low to the ground. One more TIE fighter was taken down over the town by a Dunelizard, just as two more TIE fighters joined in, and one of the Scyk Fighters took a hard shot to one of it’s cannons. Edith took the hit as a sign that it was time to leave.

“OK, droids, thank you, and May the Force be with you.” Six Hutt gunships flew at each other, skimming the bottom of Moff Gideon’s light cruiser, coming from six directions, leaving a trail of vapor in their wake and trailing TIE fighters. The Astromechs and one adept Jedi pulled up at the last second, letting their engines stall and dropping out of the air. The stalling engines gave a sickening groan that vibrated through Edith’s body before the ship began its free fall. The TIE pilots had no time to compensate. Only the Jedi’s Krayt Gunship flipped end over end before its engines roared back to life, five Hutt Gunships and remaining TIE fighters dissolving in a fireball of durasteel, fuel and debris. Edith let loose a concussion round, the blast pushing off against the cruiser and punched the throttle forward, shooting out over the green landscape. The palace and the cruiser disappeared behind her in seconds, as she gained altitude. The cruiser released two more TIE fighters, but by the time they entered a heading into their navcomms, Edith had engaged her hyperdrive, and they could not follow.

At light speed, Edith’s adrenaline finally fizzled out. She pulled Bodhi into her arms and watched the stars streak by, silently berating herself for having let her guard down so far, and hoping the one little droid left in the palace would see her message safely to the Mandalorian.


	14. Black Sheep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din travels to Dantooine

The Mandalorian watched the bright crimson that was the Jedi - his Jedi - as she made her way back through the forest, and the Razor Crest gained altitude. The landing gear protested as it parted from Vodran’s wet soil, as if it felt the same way he did, as if something vital was being torn from his body as he finally set course. Once he was free of the planet’s gravity he quickly made for the hyperlane that would take him to Carida. He wanted to be able to contact Edith and Bodhi again as soon as possible. In hyperspace, surrounded by the stars flashing past, the familiar silence enveloped him from all sides. The echoing and empty hull that once brought him solace found Din lonely and cold. He caught himself checking the space where Bodhi usually slept, only to find his son absent. He would turn his head to say something to Edith and her listening presence simply wouldn’t be there.

Din had grown so used to the routine and familiarity of his little family that even sleep eluded him. He had only been sharing Edith’s bed for a few nights, but the safety of another able warrior beside him gave him a comfort he had never known before. He had known lovers and he had known comrades, but they were never one in the same, until Edith. He lay awake in the cockpit, the pilot’s seat reclined as far as it would go, recalling Edith’s fight in the little Palace shipyard, where she had nearly run him through with her lightsaber. He would have died a warrior’s death that day and been happy. 

He had real dreams now. Before Edith, before Bodhi, before he had even been Din to anyone except his dead parents, he had simply been Mando. He had simply been Beroya, Bounty Hunter. His whole identity had been to provide for others, find a job, get paid, keep flying. It wasn’t a great life, but it was a life, and one that he wouldn’t have had without the Mandalorians who rescued him. He swore to uphold the Resol’nare and he would until his last breath. With his little alien son and sorcerer wife at his side, he now had purpose. He had fulfilled his quest, however unconventionally. Like every job he’d ever taken, this task hadn’t gone to plan either. It had given him focus, however. It had given him hope. And though his heart ached more with every parsec he put between himself and his family, every moment gave rise to a new experience he might consider undertaking with them.

His Vod in the covert were going to give him so much shit when he told them where he had been. Especially Paz and Lor. Paz would be pissed that Edith was an aruetii. Lor would tease him mercilessly simply because he could. But they would see her Mandokar, and that was ultimately all that mattered. Edith would have the protection of his tribe once she was a member of his clan, by creed. No more hiding. A Jedi wearing the mark of a Mandalorian. It made him laugh out loud, the sound sharp in the cold cockpit of the Razor Crest. He wore the cloak Edith made for him, bearing the mark of his clan and wrapped it more tightly around himself, letting his head fill with daydreams. Absently, he played with the neat, even stitches where Edith had cut open his pants and stitched them back together months ago, much like she had put him back together: neater and stronger.

He came out of hyperspace as close to Carida as possible, not intending to even land on the planet nor the orbiting station Valor. He did a risky fly-by of the space station and attached a tiny relay to one of it’s many transmitter arrays. He made sure he could get a ping back from it and was back in hyperspace before the station asked for his business in the sector a second time. Dantooine would be another 4 days alone in the black on fuel stolen from Vodran, before he could send a message to the planet relayed through Carida.

Despite the pang of homesickness, Din enjoyed the food Edith had prepared, both because she had prepared it and because she had a knack for Mandalorian cooking. At least, Din supposed, she could follow a recipe or work out the basic spices for herself from what was available on Coruscant. Years alone gave her time to learn not only other languages but customs and cuisine as well, important to her work as a Consular and as a Master to other Jedi wishing to become a Consular themselves. Throughout Din’s training, Edith had kept him moving, and he continued to do so as much as he could in the ship as well, to break up the monotony. He had his own well-practiced drills, hand-to-hand combat and strength training, but he also had forms Edith had taught him with a practice saber. It gave him a swell of pride to think of Bodhi learning and choosing a form with which to wield his own lightsaber one day. When he finally wore himself out, he would take the datapad he had filled from the palace library and read.

Jedi lore and history, recent Galactic history, Imperial History, Sith lore, The Rise and Fall of the New Republic. He would read until he fell asleep. Mandalore hovered at the edges of the galaxy’s history, making an appearance when Mandalore the opportunity to exploit the weakness of either opponent. They rarely seemed to be a major player in any fight. He had the Mandalorian histories at his fingertips, but they were stories he believed he had heard, the other tales far more intriguing. He took particular interest in the recent history that now marked the Galaxy’s “before” and “after”. The Battle of Yavin and the downfall of the Empire, an event which most systems used to mark the passage of time itself now. It was something Edith’s comrades had come out of hiding for, and for her, he would learn it.

And so his days went as they do in space, the Razor Crest’s interior lighting dictating day and night cycles, attempting to keep his body on some semblance of a routine.

The Mandalorian woke to the soft chime of the navcomm alerting him to the impending drop from hyperspace. He had fallen asleep re-reading the New Rebublic accounts of the massacre that was Order 66, the truth of it finally solidifying itself in the pit of his stomach. He had yet a new facet with which to admire Edith by. He set the datapad aside, noting that the next unread file was on Mandalorian Separatists. He made his way down to the refresher and made himself presentable for whatever Dantooine might present.

Din splashed his face with lukewarm water from the tiny sink, looking at himself in the even smaller mirror. For the first time he considered the attractiveness of his own face. Objectively, he was aware his lovers appreciated his body. Being fit was necessary for survival. His face, however… no one had seen his face since he was a child. He could take his helmet off and melt into a crowd, he supposed. He took care of his hair and his teeth - preventative maintenance was essential if no one could ever look at you to care for you. He kept his mustache because it was one of the few things he remembered about his parents: that his mother loved his father’s mustache and his father was always shaving it off. He remembers being tickled with his father’s stubble and his mother’s laugh as his father tried to do the same to her. The more the memories of his parents faded, the harder he tried to hold on to them. The face in the mirror was all he had of them. Soon, he would be sharing it with Edith. He recalled the taste of her smile the first time his facial hair tickled the sensitive skin of her throat... Din splashed his face once more and dried himself before returning to the cockpit and donning his helmet.

Armor on, Din dropped out of hyperspace, Dantooine appearing bright and lush in front of the Razor Crest. He turned the little receiver on, which began to blink and buzz the same message: Sheep come home. Hoping he wasn’t leading his people into another disaster he risked contacting the only other ship whose coordinates he had on the subspace channel he and Lor had long ago agreed they would use.

“Papa Sheep, this is Black Sheep, what’s your position?”

Minutes crawled by. The receiver continued to blip out it’s string of Dadita as reliably as ever. Din repeated his request after 30 minutes had passed.

“Black Sheep checking in, Papa Sheep, what’s your position?” Time seemed to slow and the minutes felt like hours. 

As he waited, Din flicked on the dedicated commlink and set the coordinates for Carida:Vodran. “Edie, I’ve made it to my primary destination. Waiting to see if it’s a relay or if the covert is actually here. I’ll contact you once I know more.” He hesitated, wanting to say so much more. Instead he sighed and clicked off the commlink, sending the message. He tucked the little device into a packet close to his chest.

The pulsing blue light and the blip of Dadita stopped. Din sat up straighter in the pilot’s seat.

The ship’s comm crackled to life and a relieved voice came through, speaking in Mando’a, “Welcome home Black Sheep. Prepare to receive coordinates for rende—.” The comm cut out and then abruptly came back to life. A different voice roared over the line. “WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?”

Din just chuckled into the comm. “Missed you too, Paz. Receiving coordinates.”


	15. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din finds his tribe, only to be asked to continue providing for them.

The coordinates on Dantooine lead the Razor Crest to a temperate settlement nestled between mountains, a wide river on one side and terraced fields on the other. He landed next to the Nexus, other gunships, cargo ships and fighters lined up on a small bit of tarmac at one end of what appeared to be a bustling town. The Nexus belonged to the Al’verde, captain of the Nevarro tribe, Lor Trasse. Lor’s blue and silver painted armor was the first thing Din saw as he exited the Razor Crest. While unusual for another Mandalorian to meet him out in the open, it was not unwelcome to see a friendly face.

“You have been missed, Beroya!” Al’verde offered his arm and Din clasped it tightly.

“Su cuy’gar, Al’verde! I’m happy to have found you.” Behind the helmet, Din smiled in relief at having found the tribe again, his guilt at how he had left the covert, fighting for his foundling and himself, tearing itself away from the safety it had known for so long dropping away just a little.

Lor gave Din an affectionate squeeze on the back of his neck and lead him out of the port, “Welcome to Kephess.” He started.

Lor explained that another Nevarro tribe member who had married into their ranks had family in Kephess. After fighting off the guild, the remaining Tribe members took what was left and made for Dantooine, leaving the Armorer to mop up, at her insistence. The town was a mix of three tribes, with many large clans, and towns people who lived comfortably among them. “Those of us who still identify with Kyr’tsad are the most strict with the Resol’nare. Don’t be too quick on the draw when you see some bare-faced Mandalorians.” Lor nodded when Din started. “I know. It was a shock. Some of us from Nevarro are having a hard time of it. But, they took us in, for the most part they don’t fuck with us about it. If they are denied the Manda when the time comes, then that’s on them.” Lor shrugged.

“What does the Armorer say?” Din asked as he took in the town. He didn’t see many wearing armor, though the townspeople didn’t regard the two Mandalorians with the fear and trepidation he was used to. He was having to move out of the way for average men and women, where he would usually cut a large path, as the crowd parted around him, as to not draw his ire. 

“She’s… quiet about it…” Lor offered. “I think she’s been waiting for you to find us, honestly.”

Din didn’t know what to do with that information. Halfway through the town, they turned down a road that lead past less busy homes and farming outposts, where Din could see larger buildings in the distance. Turning around to look the other direction, he could see similar buildings in the distance there as well. He recognised the Mandalorian communal housing. A central six-sided yurt-like structure would serve as a meeting space, eating hall, training and education space, five sides leading off and down to homes dug into the ground that provided privacy, cover and climate control. Gardens, space for animals like chickens and ducks could be had between homes. The sixth side was often the forge and where a clan’s leader would attend to business. Seeing the familiar homestead made the Mandalorian’s shoulder’s relax.

Entering the common room, Din was met with familiar beskar and clan symbols he had known for years, claps on the back and calls from his tribe welcoming back their Beroya. Lor lead him through the settlement to the forge, where the Armorer’s table sat, her tool cabinet open, the forge lit and glowing. Din handed his rifle and blaster to Lor who set it next to his own, out of deference for the Armorer, and they both sat at the table. 

“It is good that you have returned safely, Beroya.” The Armorer entered from behind the forge, her golden armor shining. “Have you completed your quest?”

“Yes. In a way.” Din bowed his head.

The Armorer hummed. “I do not see the Child. You found a Jedi to train him.”

“I did. I found a Jedi to train us both.” Din sat up straighter. Lor watched him with curiosity. Others from their tribe came to listen, wanting to learn where their bounty hunter had been for so long. “Clan Djarin will soon be a Clan of three.”

Silence fell in the forge. The Armorer seemed to be getting more comfortable where she sat. “Tell us what became of you since last we met, Beroya.”

With a heavy sigh, Din told his tribe the short version of where had been the last eight months. The rest of the tribe settled in to listen.

“Edith taught me to protect myself from attacks on the mind and is training my son. Bodhi named himself, and then claimed Edith as his mother. We named him as our son and I asked her to be my wife just before I left for Dantooine. I am to return in five weeks time to fulfill that promise.” He finished.

“You expect us to accept an auretii, a Jedi, no less, as your riduur?” Paz walked up to the table where Din sat. He was broad-shouldered and tall, imposing even though his words were not as gruff as they often usually were.

“You will accept Edith as my wife whether you like it or not, Vod.”

Paz just stood over Din, intending to be a menacing presence.

“There is no tenant that prevents a Mandalorian from bonding with whomever they wish. This Jedi, you believe her worthy to join your clan?” The Armorer asked.

“Yes.” Din was quick to answer.

“Then this tribe will honor your choice. However. Much has happened in your absence, and as a consequence, we must ask that you return to your duty as the tribe’s Beroya, now that your foundling is safe.” The Armorer pointedly stared at Paz until he stepped back from the table.

“Of course.” Din looked from Lor to the Armorer. “What is required of me?”

Lor spoke up, “Perhaps we should let him rest, get some food in him before we task him with more work.”

Paz scoffed, “He’s been shacking up with some witch woman in a cave and you think he needs more rest? That girl’s cunt probably needs more rest that anything -” Paz found himself flat on his back with Din’s foot against his throat before he could utter another word. 

“You speak of Edith with any thing other than respect and you will never speak again, understand?” Din said through his teeth. He leaned a little heavier on Paz’ throat. “Edith will not give you a second chance, brother.” Din stepped off and away from Paz and sat back down at the table. None of the other members of the tribe had even flinched, nor had any moved to help the other man off the floor.

In the quarters he had been given for night, Din sat restless in the bed. A light knock came and Lor entered at Din’s call, letting his friend take a seat without formality.

“You ok kid? I know this is a lot. I don’t think the Armorer realizes what she’s asking.” Lor leaned over his knees as he sat, leveling a look at Din. 

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. We’re in this shit because of me, and I need to make it right. I’ve never been away from the kid this long, or…”

“Her?” Lor smiled beneath his helmet and he laughed, playfully backhanding Din’s leg. “You’re holding out on me, Beroya.”

Din rested his head on the wall and stared at the ceiling. “You really want to know?”

“I have known you since the Corps, and no one, man or woman, has turned your head. You come back here and you’re ready to marry somebody? Fuck yeah, I wanna know!” Lor sat back in his chair.

Din closed his eyes. “She’s gorgeous, Lor. She’s tiny. The day I met her, she fought off a dozen mercs while I watched her six, and then she saved my life. She’s got all this red, curly hair…. These big, expressive green eyes. The second time I saw her fight, I fucked it up and she nearly slit my throat with her lightsaber. I would have joined the Manda one happy man.” Din chuckled and Lor joined in.

“She really is a warrior, then?” Lor asked, Din’s happiness warming him. He had never seen the soft spoken, reserved hunter so animated.

“I didn’t know much about the Jedi until I began looking for them. She was given to them when she was an infant. She’s been training to be a Jedi her whole life.” Din sat up and clasped his arms around his knees. “It’s like Mandalorians, but not. They have use of the Force, the energy that flows through all living things. I thought it was magic and fairy stories, but now I know better…”

“Like us, how?” Lor prodded.

Din gathered his thoughts and continued, “They raise their children in their ways from very young. The younglings go through different stages of training, both physical and mental. Any child, no matter how small, can become a Jedi, though. Edie is a Jedi Master. She’s seen her share of blood and battle. She is… she is mandokarla.”

Lor just shook his head. “You are so far gone, Beroya.” He laughed. Din just nodded in earnest.

“I am, Al’verde. I am.”

Lor took his leave, letting Din settle in for the night. They would meet again in the morning to discuss what supplies and provisions their tribe needed. They had been living off the good graces of the other tribes and needed to start contributing, perhaps even building their own common house. Without credits and goods, they couldn’t move forward. The Razor Crest and the Nexus would both be sent out to gather what they could for the tribe, as well as search for the half dozen tribe members still unaccounted for.

Din had a hard time getting comfortable in the unfamilar surroundings, even when it was his own tribe on the other side of the door. He dug through the small bag he had brought with his and pulled out his commlink, trying to get a message through to Edith again.

“Edie? Damn, I hope this is just screwed on my end. I found the tribe, I’m still on track get back to you. I’ll try and get back to the relay point to see if I can’t fix the comm signal.” Din sighed. “I miss you.” He received nothing but static back through the commlink.

Attempting to push his nagging worry to the back of his mind, Din took out his datapad and started a file on the history of his tribe, the Kyr’stad, reading until he could no long keep his eyes open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Al'verde: commander  
> Mandokarla: epitome of Mandalorian virtue
> 
> This fic takes place after the first season of the show, so consider Season 1 happened, then this will diverge from there.


	16. The Tribe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mandalorian's tribe calls in his debt. The Armorer tries to cushion a fall.

White sand was warm between his toes, a sensation he can’t recall ever having before. Crisp, clear water lapped at the shore where pebbles gathered, rolled smooth by the tide of two moons rising over a millennia. The single hot sun caressed his shoulders, a gentle hand taking his and pulling him toward the water. Smiling green eyes beckoned him into the surf, their naked bodies swallowed by the water as if they had grown gills and were meant to be there. He wrapped himself around her, moving like sea creatures, letting her limbs envelope him, her lips devour him. The wet spirals of her crimson hair were his only anchor as the weight of their bodies dragged them both under into the abyss of pleasure. 

One moment they were writhing in bliss and the next she was ripped away, leaving him gasping for breath beneath the tide. As he surfaced, night had fallen, bioluminescent algae outlining the choppy waves. The only other light coming from the two half moons above them. She surfaced twenty feet away from him, gasping for air, calling out his name, before being pulled beneath the surface once more. He swam and dove, the water turned to molasses around him, his limbs turned to lead. He surfaced again and called out to her; he could hear her calling for him, a watery gasp filled with desperation. He searched for her, panic rising with every cry of his name, until it was heard no more.

Din woke from his nightmare in a cold sweat, his head pounding. His heart was still thundering in his chest, the panic he felt still singing in his veins. He donned his armor and his cloak and went out to the fields behind the settlement with his practice saber. It was just after dawn, dew clinging to the grass and the community was beginning to buzz with life. No one said anything to him as he moved through the Dulon forms Edith had taught him, though some watched from the central common house as they came to claim breakfast. While the repetitive physical aspect calmed him, he fiercely missed sparring with Edith. He missed throwing knives with Edith. He missed Edith. He missed the slight weight of Bodhi strapped to his back and the gentle way Edith’s hands would correct his form, often sparing a soft caress to Bodhi’s little head before returning to the lesson. Distracted, he threw the saber to the ground and sat down in the grass with a frustrated sigh. The urge to follow the road back to the Razor Crest and set course for Vodran tugging at his spine.

Instead, he pulled out the commlink and tried it again, only to be met with static. The frustration piled on. He saw Lor striding slowly toward him from the house through the field as he clicked off the commlink.

“Everything OK, Beroya?” Lor’s helmet tilted just so, his body blocking the early morning sun.

“No. I can’t raise Edith on Vodran.” Din held the commlink in his hand as if it could explain itself.

Lor held out a hand to help Din to his feet. “Mage is around somewhere, lets have him take a look. And lets get some food in you.” Din let Lor help him up, brushing the grass and dirt from himself. 

The tribe helped empty the Razor Crest of the artifacts and relics Edith wanted preserved and loaded the ship back up with empty crates to bring back supplies. Din was to leave the next morning to see about obtaining credits and perhaps word of the rest of their lost flock. Lor and his wife Anya would do the same. Din would make his way to Vodran, and the Kyr’tsad ships would meet up on Takodana. Only the Razor Crest and the Nexus would be in contact with one another. The Nexus would be in contact with a gunship used by another tribe in Kephess, Clan Reishi’s Blackadder. The Blackadder would be in contact with the tribes on Dantooine as needed. As the Mandalorians spent the day planning and packing, Din was only half listening, hovering around Mage, the engineer that worked the tech into much of what the Armorer forged. Mage sat at his terminal with the commlink most of the day running diagnostics, saying very little.

After the evening meal, Din sat with the Armorer at the forge; she had many questions about his quest that she hadn’t felt right asking with the entire tribe as an audience.

“This Jedi, who is to become your riduur. She understands our culture?” The Armorer asked.

“She does. She is a Consular. As a Jedi Master it is her duty to learn and know the customs of many cultures. She is fluent in many languages, including our own.” Din’s voice held a tone of pride.

“It is my understanding that the Jedi do not take mates or raise children. What makes you the exception?” The Armorer’s golden helmet cocked in question.

Din gathered his thoughts. “The Jedi Order is all but extinct. The few that are left have no Masters to obey. They are to make their own rules and their own choices. Their old ways often lead to suffering and anger. Edith has chosen a different path.”

The Armorer bowed her head. “And she has been agreeable to not seeing your face thus far?”

“Yes.” Din replied without hesitation.

“She understands the gravity of the ridurrok? Does she not have any other expectations of you with regard to marriage?”

“She understands completely. The Jedi were never meant to marry. The ability to bear children was taken from her, though we will raise our foundling together and would welcome others. She has asked for some traditions from her home planet to be included in our bonding ceremony, but they are symbolic to us alone.”

The Armorer was silent for a long moment. Din remained quiet, out of respect. When she finally spoke, she sat up straighter and squared her shoulders, clasping her hands in her lap. “What do either of you know of the history of the Kyr’stad?”

Din leaned back, confused. “I know what I was taught in the Fighting Corps… Edith likely knows its history from long before I was found, as a Consular… Why is it important?”

“There is much you do not know, Beroya. Kyr’tsad is not… we broke away from contemporary Mandalorian society to maintain a fundamental practice of The Way. The one, true, Way. Much of the written history of our tribe is colored by what the pacifists and separatists believe. Many of our methods to increase our numbers were considered to be… unsavory. We are the strictest of our faith, the truest and the most adherent to the Way of the Mandalore. If this woman is truly worthy of becoming your aliit, if she is as learned as you says she is, then she must have an understanding of our tribe and our ways.”

“The Jedi, especially a Consular, are nothing if not objective.” Din countered. The Armorer sagged with a heavy sigh. Her entire countenance appeared defeated. “I believe Edith knows and understands enough to accept me as I am. And I of her.”

Mage spoke little other than tech-speak, as Din nervously chewed on his lip.

“Tell me like I’m a child, Mage.” He ground out, his patience wearing thin.

Mage grinned beneath his helmet and began disconnecting the commlink from his console, in a little dark nook of his home, crammed among bits and bobs, wires and spare parts. Two Mandalorians in full beskar armor crammed together in the small space were one Mandalorian too many. 

“Your commlink works fine. Your relay is fine. The other commlink just isn’t where it should be. The relay is sending it’s signal to the right sector, but there’s nothing there to ping back. Either the other comm is busted or moved.” Mage handed Din the small cylinder back. Din tightened his fist around it.

“I built them both. Could the other one be faulty?” Din asked, trying to find an explanation.

Mage started putting away the tools he had been using. “Not likely. This comm was well done, you know what you’re doing. I didn’t see any shoddy connections.”

“Could the signal be dampened if it had to go through bedrock?” Din started reaching for explanations. His head was pounding and a sick feeling was beginning to take hold in the pit of his stomach.

Mage thought for a long moment. “Like underground? Not likely. You’ve got the best emitters those comms can handle. Thats some black market shit.” Mage chuckled. “I’d take those off your hands, if you ever get more!”

Din ignored the comment, still grasping at straws. “Is there any way to track where the other comm is?”

Mage shook his head slowly. “Not really. Sorry Beroya. This about your girl?” Din just nodded sadly. “Give it back to me. I’ll jack it up and widen the spread, so if the receiving comm is used - if she tries to contact you, it will send a ping back to me. It won’t get a true signal, but I’ll see it here. I’ll still have to relay through the Blackadder, but it’s something.”

Din handed back the commlink and sighed, grateful to have something tangible to set his hope upon. “Thank you Mage. Really. It’s probably nothing. Edith can take care of herself, I just…”

Mage unwrapped the wires and began taking out the tools he had just put away. “I get it, Beroya. If I didn’t know where Daan was, that he was safe… Man, I get it.” Mage sat back down at the console and began to disassemble the commlink once more.

Din rapped his knuckles on the other man’s helmet in an affectionate goodbye and left for the common room.

The tribe woke at dawn to see the Kyr’stad ships off, Din in the Razor Crest, Lor and Anya in the Nexus. The Barycir Haranov was a tradition they did not often get to partake in, to lend aid to a battle they would not be a part of. As Al’verde, Lor’s departure symbolized leading their tribe into battle, and each clan brought something for the warriors, given as they departed. Clan Raze presented Lor and Anya with a new rifle, as Anya’s had been lost when they left Nevarro. Clan Jhett, which consisted of Mage and his husband Daan, provided Din with his improved commlink and a tiny box Mage told him was for his foundling. The Armorer had made several new pieces of armor for Lor and Anya, and presented them with beskar signets that wouldn’t fade or flake off like the painted ones they’d had before. 

Paz Vizla sheepishly pushed his youngest daughter to present Din with his clan’s gift. The tiny Mandalorian, affectionately called Spider by the Tribe, had long ago taken a shine to Din. Wearing armor that nearly enveloped her small frame, she stepped up to the Bounty Hunter, who went down on one knee to meet her. 

“These are for you and your cyare, Beroya.” Little arms held out a piece of cloth, wrapped around her gift.

Din took the package and went to give the child an affectionate squeeze on her shoulder. She wore a practice helm, without a visor, held on by a strap under her chin. Thick locks of curly black hair spilled from beneath the helmet and her dark eyes looked on Din with adoration. “Thank you, Mesh’la.”

“Beroya, when can I fly with you on the Razor Crest?” Her eyes pleaded, her tiny lips pursed into a pout Din could barely stand. The rest of the tribe stood by, some listening to their exchange and others saying goodbye to Lor and Anya.

“Ad’ika, when you take your vows, if you still choose to become Beroya, I will take you as my apprentice. Agreed?” The child’s face lit up with joy and she bounced on her heels.

“Oh yes, Beroya! Vor entye!” She gave a tiny bow and tried her best to calm her joy, still bouncing and radiating happiness.

Din began to open the cloth she had given him. “Now what have you brought me?”, he asked. The bundle contained two beskar knives, the Djarin clan signet on one side of the stone hilt and the symbol for the Jedi order on the other. The little girl’s father stepped behind her and Din rose to face him. Paz Vizla just nodded at Din and it was as much of an apology as Din was ever going to get for his comrade’s misstep. Din nodded back and gave the little girl an affectionate rap of his knuckles on her helmet. 

Other clans and individuals presented small caches of specialized items such as timed explosives and disintegration rounds, plasma packs for their blasters and fuel cartridges for their jetpacks. Lor and Anya bid their grown children goodbye. The tradition was completed when Din and Lor bid each other farewell, and waited for the Armorer, their tribe’s leader, to send them off. 

The Armorer stepped up before the three could board their ships. “Safe journey, Al’Verde, Beroya. Bring home our lost sheep. Bring home your Cyare.” She presented Din with one last gift. She held out a beskar version of short training saber Din had been practicing with. “To continue your training. I can guess that a wooden stick is no match for a lightsaber.” Din took the gift and bowed his head in gratitude.

As the Razor Crest followed the Nexus into the early morning sun, Din watched the bustling town of Kephess disappear. Leaving Dantooine’s atmosphere behind and entering in the coordinates for Nevarro, The Mandalorian felt lonelier than he had in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Riduur: spouse  
> Ridurrok: Marriage ceremony  
> Aliit: Clan/Family  
> Barycir Haranov: Send-off ceremony for warriors, literally "deploy cache" (my own creation)  
> Dulon: Jedi lightsaber training consisting of repetitive movements


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mandalorian visits some old friends, gets a job and learns new information.

“You’re doing that thing again, aren’t you?” Din reached up in the darkness and pulled Edith’s lip from between her teeth.

“You like when I do the thing.” Din could hear the smile in her words as she said them. Din’s laugh was a full body quake that moved through them both as he pulled Edith tighter against himself.

“I love when you do the thing. Drives me insane. Drives me to distraction.” He kissed her temple in the darkness and relaxed with the easy weight of her on top of him.

Edith hummed in contentment. “I’m sure there is a thing you do that will drive me to distraction as well, once I am able to see your expressions.” Edith ran her fingers up Din’s side, her touch feather light. He flinched back and hissed, his stomach rolling beneath her. Edith laughed at his expense. “I know you’re ticklish. I can’t wait to see your smile.” Edith poked Din’s other side and he recoiled with a sharp yelp. Edith melted into giggles in the dark as the man she was laying on wrestled her into a sitting position on her bed.

Din grabbed both of Edith’s wrists in his hand. “You’re terrible.” His smile was at odds with his words as he kissed her, keeping her hands between them.

“I’m really not.” Edith said sweetly, sitting forward onto her knees in her lover’s lap and pressing herself more fully onto him.

“No, you’re not.” Din hummed low in his chest and kissed her again, guiding her arms around his neck. His hands enveloped the expanse of her nude back and his lips moved to find the sensitive skin below her ear. “You’re everything.” He left a path of searing kisses along her shoulder, pulling Edith impossibly closer, the air of the room changing, charging.

Edith had taken every opportunity to map her Mandalorian’s body and there was little she hadn’t yet touched. The man’s lithe musculature felt as if it was sculpted for her own body, down to every scar. As he eased her weight into his arms to hungrily learn the taste of her breasts, she followed the valley of his sternum down to the ridges of his stomach. She teased the hair there as it grew thicker the further down she went, finding him hard again between their bodies, taking him in both of her hands.

Edith’s boldness caught Din off guard and he sat up, pressing his forehead against hers, attempting to take deep, calming breaths.

“You’re a quick study.” Din breathed out, letting his head fall back. Edith’s soft hands were warm, her own heat mere centimeters from him. One hand cradled him from below while the other ghosted over his length in a deliciously slow but even rhythm. He held her with his hands buried in her thick hair.

Edith nuzzled into Din’s shoulder and let her words reverberate through him. “I love making you feel good, Din. I’ve never known I could feel so alive until I was with you. You’ve let me chart every inch of you with my hands.” Edith sucked a bruise below Din’s ear, smiling against his Adam’s apple as he let out a filthy moan. “I cannot wait until you can watch me map every inch of you with my mouth.”

With a needy whine, Din claimed Edie’s mouth and lifted her by the backs of her thighs, a quick movement that nearly unbalanced her. Edith anchored herself to his shoulders as he sheathed himself in her heat. “Shit… Holy… Maker motherfucking…” Edith couldn’t string together much beyond filthy moans and curse words, desperately clinging to the man beneath her. She was writhing and trembling in his lap and all he could do was hold on and laugh. “Shut up and fucking, just move, Din.” Edith demanded. She grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back, capturing his laugh with her teeth and lips. She didn’t give him time to move, grinding herself down on him, turning anything resembling humor into breathless, desperate want.

He took her hard and fast, ending in a panting mess of limbs and sweat and whispered promises. It would be the last time they made love before he left Vodran.

Din sat in the cockpit of the Razor Crest, recalling his last night with Edith, trying to drive away the deep regret he felt, wishing they hadn’t needed to be in the dark. More than once Edith had soothed his conflicted soul, her impossibly deep green eyes finding his through the visor of his helmet, telling him unequivocally, that she would live her entire lifetime never seeing his face if he so chose. It was that pureness of heart that drew her to him; Edith was incapable of not digging out the good in everyone she touched, no matter how deep she needed to go. Try as he might, he couldn’t push away the entirety of the memory, the sensation of her sweat-dampened hair as he smoothed it away from her face, her much smaller body tucked fully against his own. A life lived completed cut off from touch, a sensation he never knew he needed so terribly. Some time in the night Bodhi found his way into the nest of blankets, worming his way between them. Din had to slip on his helmet in the dark to find his way out of the cavern, leaving their warm bed to prepare himself to depart, a piece of his heart tangled in the blankets.

When he dropped out of hyperspace, the familiar whine of the lightspeed engines and the full-body lurch as the change in speed pushed him back into the pilot’s seat was so familiar, the sensation barely registered. With practiced hands he laid in the re-entry sequence and landed just outside the city per usual. Nervarro filled the viewscreen much the same as it always did. Unusual was the smiling face of his friend Cara Dune as she walked to meet him in the shipyard just outside the city limits.

Exiting the ship, the dry heat of the planet’s atmosphere was a shock to the system, he had become so accustomed to the humidity of Vodran. The heavy tang of sulphur hung in the air as he clasped his friend’s arm.

“Long time, no see! What brings you this way?” Cara glanced behind the Mandalorian and frowned, “Where’s the kid?”

Din sighed and resigned himself to spilling his story to Cara… and probably taking a good amount of ribbing for it in the process. Cara was a fellow comrade-at-arms, a warrior in her own right, who had stood beside him in battle more than once. “Bodhi is with his mother.” He replied.

Cara’s face softened. “You actually found his people.” She said reverently. She, of all people, knew how much it meant for Din to find where Bodhi belonged. Din didn’t wait for the sympathetic platitudes he was anticipating and started walking toward the archway leading to the city’s entrance. “And you finally gave the little gremlin a name!” Cara fell into step, grinning.

“He named himself. I wound up on Takodana which lead me to Vodran. I found a Jedi. She saved my life and took us in.” Din stopped under the stone archway, beskar armor glinting in the harsh sun. 

Cara cocked an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “And she kept the kid - Bodhi.”

“She’s kept us both. I’ve spent the last few months there with both of them. I’m here on business for the tribe, but... The plan is to go back and bring her back, to make her my wife.” Din started walking further into the city and it took a long moment for Cara to catch up with what he had just said.

“Mando!” She grabbed him by the arm and forced him to face her. Cara’s face was equal parts amused and angry. “You go off looking for the kid’s people and you end up married? Fucking hell!” 

“Engaged, Cara.” Din laughed. “Buy me a drink and I’ll give you the details. Where’s Karga working out of these days?” Din cast his glance around, noticing the change in the city. It was cleaner, the shops and streets more colorful and the people happier somehow. 

Din looked back at Cara who gaped at him like a fish.

“Buy you a drink?” She asked. “Since when do people buy you a drink? And what would this Jedi think of someone else buying her Mandalorian a drink?”

Din chuckled again and put his arm around Cara’s shoulder. While the weight of the galaxy was still pressed on him, the Mandalorian was so very happy to be in the presence of his friend.

Cara led them to the squat building that now housed the offices she and Greef Karga worked out of, managing the primary city on Nevarro. The entire city had undergone a sea change since Din had seen it last. The heavy black veil of Imperial occupation had been lifted and with it the smog of oppression. The lightness was tangible in the air. Karga’s booming voice greeted Din as he and Cara entered the building. Din actually allowed the man to shake his hand and didn’t pull away from the overly friendly slap on the shoulder.

“Where’s my little green friend, Mando?” Karga boomed.

Cara didn’t let Din get a word in edgewise. “With his betrothed.”

“With his mother.” Din said.

Karga looked between the two. “Is this true? Are you to be married?”

“Word is, Mando found a Jedi for the kid and fell hard.” Cara sat at her console and put her feet up. Din just stood with his hands on his hips, letting the pair do their familiar dance.

“Thanks Cara.” The Mandalorian deadpanned. Cara lowered her head and smirked at Din through her eyelashes. He couldn’t help but smile beneath the helmet.

Karga clapped his hands once and bellowed, “This is cause for celebration! Come! Come! Let us go into my office and have a drink!”

Inside Karga’s office, the Mandalorian went into more detail about his adventures with the Jedi, his tribe and his foundling. To their surprise, he did indeed join them in a drink, lifting his helmet just enough to enjoy a single glass of spotchka. 

“So that’s why I’m here. I know you don’t technically run the Guild from here anymore, but I need jobs and I need intel on other Mandalorians. I have four more weeks before I’m due back on Vodran and I need to make them count.”

Cara and Karga shared a look between them.

“We don’t hear much about the Guild since Nevarro went legit. ” Karga sat back and opened a drawer in his desk. He pulled out a small datapad and handed it to Din. “but, I think I can help you with both problems though. A former Guild member stole a freighter of medical supplies headed for Coruscant and is said to be hiding out on Kuat. The supplies he stole are used in making Spice. He’s affiliated with an underworld goon named Gor Koresh. Brags about his Mandalorian contacts, and word gets around. See if Koresh has any intel on your people, see if you can get any intel on the freighter for the New Republic as to the whereabouts of their medical supplies.”

Cara cut in with a smirk. “The reward alone could set you up for good long while. And it would help us out - the asshole associated with Koresh was Nevarro Guild. He hopped that freighter here and hijacked it in hyperspace. You help us find him, we build trust with the New Republic.”

“How much?” Din took the data pad and a small rectangular tracker the size of a blast charge.

Karga and Cara both smiled. “Three million.” Cara said. “Double if you manage to get a tracker on that freighter.”

A ship full of fuel and navcomm set for Kuat, The Mandalorian’s heart was a fraction lighter. He settled into the pilot’s seat with his own datapad, the trip to Kuat a mere 7 hours at light speed. 

“Death Watch,: a faction of Mandalorian warriors considered separatists during the rule of Duchess Satine Kryze immediately following the Mandalorian Civil Wars, Clone Wars period. New Republic Designation: Terrorist Organization. Known Crimes: Murder, Child labor trafficking, fraud, corruption…”

Din had to stop reading. The book was purely academic, a historical text. He navigated away and searched a different, more recent text. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, jaw set and found a more detailed text.

“…. after the fall of Pre Viszla at the hands of Darth Maul, the ranks of Death Watch dwindled. Many of it’s ranks left the once-esteemed faction, known for it’s adherence to the warrior aspects of Mandalorian culture, eschewing the pacifist ways of contemporary Mand’alor Duchess Satine Kryze. Using RQ-9 SIM Battle Droids, Death Watch was known to attack unarmed communities for the sole purpose of taking their children. These children would then fill the barracks of the Mandalorian Fighting Corps and increase the numbers of soldiers available for their cause.”

Reading the words, a full-body visceral reaction overtook Din. He flung himself down the ladder and into the refresher, just in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Shaking with rage and disbelief, he washed his mouth out with water from the tap, replaying the words over in his mind. _“….known to attack unarmed communities for the sole purpose of taking their children….”_ He left the refresher, unable to look at his own reflection, desperate to speak to the Al’verde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay with me darlings... The Mandalorian and the Jedi will be reunited soon. Act 2 shall be concluded this week, the third and final act will begin soon thereafter. :)


	18. Change of Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din learns the horrifying truth, gets his man and changes plans

Anya’s visage in the holocomm was a comforting presence, looking over the data Din sent to the Nexus. Lor was sleeping; the crew of the Nexus had seen quite a bit more action than Din had in the last few days apparently. Anya skimmed the information and sat back with a weary sigh.

“Lor said the Armorer was going to talk to you about this.”

Din chewed on his lip beneath the helmet. “I think she tried… I thought she was asking me about Edie or shit about the others in Kephess.”

Anya leaned forward, if they had been in the same cockpit, she might have taken his hands. “Hon, she should have been the one to explain all this. The tribe on Nevarro, we’re… we’re an off-shoot of the faction of Death Watch mentioned in those texts. The Armorer was very young, just a kid herself really. She saw what was happening. She and a few others in the Corps, a few higher ups, they couldn’t stand by and let them take kids any more. They saw an opportunity during the Purge, to get the foundlings off Concordia and Concord Dawn and they took it. You were what, fifteen? Sixteen, when the Purge happened? She wasn’t much older.”

Din flexed his shaking hands. He let Anya continue.

“In the chaos, whats a few transports of missing kids? They decided to hide their faces for the purposes of secrecy, even from other Mandalorians and… out of shame.” Anya’s voice was whisper. “They tried their damnedest to do right by all of you when they were just kids themselves.” Even through her visor, it was clear Anya was looking into the past, memories she hadn’t lived, but knew through words others had spoken in order to attempt to forget. “It made sense, at the time, you never saw anyone but your trainers and your instructors. You took your vows in fucking hyperspace. Never taking off the bucket - it kept you safe.

Din gathered his thoughts, willing his dry mouth to work. “Are all the foundlings… am I… are we all stolen?”

“Not all the foundlings… But you… you were stolen, yes.” Anya sat back, her voice cracking. “I’m so very sorry.”

Anya tried to explain more, but Din simply shut down. Anya ended the holocomm, saying she would have Lor check in when he woke. “Don’t push us all away, sweetie. The rest of the tribe is right there with you.”

He wanted to hit someone or some thing. His armor felt like it was made of excrement, the shame of wearing it eating at him. He could barely breathe. He threw his helmet to the floor of the cockpit and gracelessly peeled his armor off himself, jumping down the ladder in just his armorweave. He paced the hull of the ship, thoughts tumbling around his pounding head.

His parents had died for nothing. He was a commodity. An asset. Just like Bodhi. He had bought the beskar he wore, the beskar that was part of his very identity, with his son’s life. What kind of man did that make him? How much blood was on his hands, for reasons he didn’t even know? For reasons he never even cared to ask? And Edith… did she know all of this? She couldn’t possibly truly love him if she did. Why wouldn’t she have told him? She deserved better, Bodhi deserved better. He swore to wear the helm to hide someone else’s shame and he would continue to wear it to hide his own. But. Everything he knew was a lie. The Death Watch’s shame wasn’t his. The Tribe who he called family didn’t take children and murder innocent people. Were they still out there? Killing mothers and fathers and leaving children without families?

Din spiraled. Every self-deprecating thought, every doubt he ever had, fused with every new realization that so much of what he thought he knew of his life was fiction. He was in a bubble, alone in hyperspace, at the peak of cognitive dissonance. It reminded him of meditating with Edith, his first few lessons, visualizing the very space he was now in.

Limbs heavy and cold, Din reached for the familiar black cloak laying on his bunk and pulled it around himself, letting the hood envelope him in the scent of it’s maker. How it still smelled like Edith he refused to question, as he let his back hit the wall and slid down until he sat onto the cold steel floor. With a heavy, shaky breath, he closed his eyes and meditated.

_A crater of black ash marred the earth, still steaming, debris still hot from the massive explosion that birthed it. Grey and purple clouds bruised the sky, rolling in endless waves threatening to storm. At the crater’s center Edith kneeled, weeping, covered in soot, her clothing and hair singed. Her sobs were gut-wrenching, her hands covering her face, her entire body trembling with the force of them. Din stepped into the crater to go to her and sunk into the ash, the sensation of grief and loss overwhelming him._

_“He’s gone, Din, he’s just gone! Find him!” Edith wailed._

_Black cloth, the cloth Din had wrapped Bodhi in dozens of times was clasped in his hands, stretched taught, flowing into the ash. He pulled, the warp of the cloth separating from the weft as his tendons popped against whatever anchored it beneath the ash. The cloth crumbled in his hands every time he tried to gain new purchase on it, the ash and dust of the crater making the task even more difficult._

_Edith’s cries continued, her begging sobs louder, “Please Din, find him!”_

_Din ripped of his helmet and began digging in the ash where the black cloth was sunk into the ground, using the beskar as a spade. He wept, screaming for his son, tears blurring his vision. Every hole he dug would fill again and he would try a different piece of his armor, only to lose it somewhere beneath the ash. His lungs screamed, his muscles protested with every movement. Pauldrons, vembraces, helmet… finally he pulled off his chest piece, wiping a grimy hand over the Kar’ta beskar and looking up into the sky._

_The world was silent. Edith was buried beneath the displaced ash, one pale hand visible above the pile. The realization that he had buried horrifying him in a way he could not grasp. He tried to move, to scream, to close his eyes, and he could not. He himself was buried._

With a startled gasp The Mandalorian came to on the floor of the Razor Crest, the incessant hyperspace alert grounding him to the present. What he saw during his meditation haunted him. Reattaching his armor and settling himself back in the pilot’s seat his turmoil over the historical texts about his Tribe took a back seat to what he had just seen. Getting back to Vodran, back to his family was his primary focus. In the minutes he had until he dropped out of light speed, he planned.

Din wasn’t a betting man, Gor Koresh soon found out. The Abyssin’s intel on the freighter would pan out, a Coruscanti medical freighter hastily repainted and hidden in one of the many chop shops on Kuat really felt like a waste of the Mandalorian’s talents. He did enjoy the blink-and-you-missed-it fight that left six of Koresh’s men dead and Koresh himself being eaten alive by street rats, hanging from a lampost like the galaxy’s ugliest pinata. Finding the freighter was more satisfying, however.

Dank cantinas on outer rim planets felt like a second home to the Mandalorian. If Edith were by his side, she would feel how his Force energy would seek out and soak in the nervous, intimidated aura the patrons gave off whenever he stepped into such a space. With Bodhi by his side, The Mandalorian was marginally deadlier, if more cautious. What could be more lethal than a parent protecting their child? Taking the information Koresh had given him, Din shook away his thoughts on Bodhi and Edith and made his way to the bar deeper in the seedy underbelly of Kuat.

This bar was loud and packed wall to wall with patrons of all species. Flesh workers, waitresses, dancers and customers milled about in a spicey, smokey haze, punctuated by the scent of unwashed bodies. Still, the crowd grew quiet and parted as the Mandalorian entered, not a few patrons choosing to call it a night when they saw him. His quarry wouldn’t be hard to spot, though Din didn’t exactly have the element of surprise either. Making it to the main bar, he held a 100 credit chip between his fingers, which the barkeep was happy to take from him, just as a pearl pink Twi’lek flesh worker sidled up to him. She wore little more than a bikini, her skin glittering iridescent with body paint, her eyes an impossible shade of bright blue.

“I’m looking for a young male Abyssin by the name of Bib Koresh.” Din told the bartender.

The bartender was a handsome Zabrak with black and tan markings. He smiled and winked at the Mandalorian gesturing to the Twi’lek who now had her entire body pressed against his. “Never heard the name, but Kora could show you a thing or two.”

Din tried to turn away, angling to gently remove himself from the woman’s grasp, only to feel one strong, sinewy leg wrapped around his. The bartender just smiled and winked again before turning to take an order from another patron. “Indeed, Mando. I might know something about one-eyed nephews.” Kora purred seductively against Din’s helm, where she assumed his ear to be. He turned sharply to meet her gaze, unreadable visor trained on eyes that had to be implants.

“How much?” He asked, letting Kora work her lithe body between him and the bar, snaking both her legs around him, tracing the edges of his armor with her long, manicured fingers. Her pouty lips and near-nakedness make Din’s stomach turn.

Kora gave a blinding smile and took his gloved hand to her lips. She sucked one leather-clad digit into her mouth, releasing it and letting it trail down her chin. “Let’s talk in private, shall we?”

Hand in hand, Kora lead the Mandalorian to the back of the bar, patrons still eyeing him with trepidation. Past the public refreshers, Kora lead him into the suites, where all manner of sexual appetites could be fed behind closed doors for a price. Kora hit a panel and the door to a suite slid open; she hauled the Mandalorian inside with her and quickly closed it.

“I’m not here for -” Din started.

Kora cut him off. “I know you’re looking for that piece of shit, Bib. His uncle is an even bigger piece of shit. He’s been trying to sell off the medical supplies from that freighter he and his stupid fucking friends hijacked.” Kora’s entire demeanor changed. Gone was the seductress, in her place was an angry woman with a chip on her shoulder. Kora pulled on a thin kimono from a small cubby in the wall of the room. The room itself housed only a bed and a chair, leaving little room to even walk. “Aldon, the bartender? He wants nothing to do with that little shit. You want him, you can have him. We’re trying to get off this rock, outta the spice business.”

“Do you know where the freighter is?” Din asked.

Kora sat on the bed and crossed her legs and threw her pink lekku over her shoulder. “He pulled that thing right into Aldon’s slip in the yard! I want it gone.”

Stalking through the Kuat shipyards was a cat and mouse game. Bounty hunters the Mandalorian recognized from the Nevarro branch of the guild had little other business being there, except to help Bib Koresh. As the sun rose, the shadows of the space freighters, gunships and cruisers blocked most of the daylight, creating constant twilight in the shipyard, giving both cat and mouse many places to hide.

While Din relished the thought of seeing his fellow hunters’ expressions when they saw him, he took down Bib’s guard quietly, only stepping out of the inky shadows to draw his knife across their throats and haul their dying bodies back into the darkness with him. He had only to find the Serial panel to ensure he had the correct ship. An on-planet shipyard could only hold so many freighters of a certain size - at some point, space-worthy vessels would become too heavy to be built on land.

Once Din spotted the Coruscanti freighter, it was so very obvious which ship it was. “What a dumbass.” He mumbled as he made his way over to find the Serial panel. Once found and verified, he attached the New Republic tracking beacon to the bulkhead, slinking back into the shadows.

Entering the service door of the freighter, Din met little resistance. He found Bib Koresh sitting with two of his goons partaking in spice at a makeshift table in the cargo hold. Bib himself was so far gone, Din was able to tie him up and drag him out of the ship. The other two were easy enough to take care of with a blaster bolt to the head.

Back in the Razor Crest, the idiot nephew frozen in carbonite, Din brought up Cara on the holocomm.

“Job’s done. You really needed a Mandalorian for that?” He asked his friend’s fuzzy blue image.

Cara just smirked back, per usual. “We don’t like to get our hands dirty. We got the ping from the beacon, New ‘Pub should be en route already.”

“I need you to wire five hundred thousand of those credits to Aldon and Kora Dolma on Kuat. They provided some very useful intel. They deserve a commendation, Marshall.” Din began starting the Razor Crest’s engines.

“Sure thing Soldier. When you bring in that little shit Koresh, I’ll have the rest.”

Din gave a long sigh. “Might be awhile. I got some other things to take care of. The elder Koresh gave me the location of other Mandalorians. But… I gotta get back to Vodran.”

Cara frowned. “Do what you gotta do, Mando. Really. Take care of yourself.”

Din just nodded in acknowledgement and turned off the holocomm. He lifted off from Kuat, waiting until he broke through the atmosphere to remove his helmet and start to relax. He stared at the navcomm for a long time. He wasn’t due back for weeks, but the dreams… the commlink… all of the new information he’d learned… it all ate at him like acid.

Before he could think too much about what he was doing, he opened a channel on the holocomm to the Nexus. Lor’s figure popped up, Anya’s silhouette fading in and out behind him.

“Beroya. Anya tells me we have much to discuss.” Lor’s attempt to keep his tone light did not go unnoticed.

Din simply nodded. “We do. But, I completed a job I think will give us reason to cut our mission short. I have intel that there are other Mandalorians on Trask. I’d like to reroute to Vodran first and rendevous there if that’s alright with you, Al’verde.” The Bounty Hunter’s due deference to his commander made Lor and Anya glance at one another.

“Anya, fancy a stop on Vodran? Meet the kid’s new girl?” Lor quipped.

Anya made a show of buckling herself in to the copilot’s seat next to her husband, entering coordinates on the navicomm.

“Course set for Vodran.” Anya confirmed. “ETA 8.75 hours.”

Din actually had a smile on his face as he set his own course and headed for the hyperlane that would take him where he longed to go. “Copy that, Nexus. Razor Crest ETA to Vodran 7.5 hours. See you in the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End act two.
> 
> Comments are love.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: heavenseed76, talk Mando to me!


	19. Silent and Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mandalorians visit Vodran

Even from the air, the Mandalorian could tell the town was too quiet. No bustling bazaar, no droids rolling to and fro. Even the air seemed too still. He circled the palace, trying the commlink, using a direct channel, receiving no response. The Nexus still had a good hour in hyperspace. The tiny space port didn’t ask his business nor direct him on where to land. There were no ships in the yard at all. He landed as close to the docking bay of the palace as possible.

Armed to the teeth, Din left the Razor Crest and entered a still, silent palace. If not for the eerie quiet, he would admire the beauty of the stone structure, it’s mosaics and glass gems set into the walls. Dust motes raised and swirled lazily as he stalked through the halls, disuse apparent in the quiet. His own footfalls were the only sound to be heard as he made the familiar trek through the building. Sleeping chambers were still made-up, beds never slept in since his departure, the low table in the dining room still set for the Hutt family who had lived there, just as he remembered it. He came to the kitchens which were tidied and clean but dusty. No evidence of recently washed dishes or prepared meals. The spices in the cupboard nearest the pantry, the ones Din knew Edith often “borrowed” were in their places, no evidence they had been moved in weeks.

Din paused beside the servant’s stairs, heart in his throat, not knowing what he would find when he opened the pantry and the panel beyond. In his bones, he knew Edith and Bodhi were not on the other side of that wall. He was reminded of a concept he had learned as a boy, Schroedinger’s Cat. His family were both behind that wall and not behind that wall at the same time. As long as he remained where he was, he would be blissfully ignorant of their fate. He clenched his fists, willing himself to reach out and open the door.

A high-pitched string of droid-speak startled Din and he spun, blaster raised, coming face-to-face with an R3 droid. The little droid rolled back with an affronted tone and Din holstered his blaster. “Not now droid.” With an annoyed huff, Din pressed the hidden pad that opened the door to the cavern beyond.

The Mandalorian was oblivious to the droid following him into the cave, though it provided the only source of light. He had hoped to find warmth, the sound of laughter, the scent of food… he was met with cold stone floors, cobwebs and more dust. Somewhere in the cave a creature skittered away from his footsteps. He passed Edith’s chambers and his own, the hot spring pool, their makeshift refresher, and came to the large cavern where they spent most of their time. Their dishes lay forgotten in the little nook Edith called a kitchen, the same ones they had used the morning he left. The firepit was cold and on one of it’s rocks lay a molding smock that belonged to Bodhi, set out to dry by the fire weeks ago. Every minute he stood there in the semidarkness, he felt as if he had less oxygen. Within the helmet, Din felt as though there was a finite amount of air in the cavern and he was using it up too fast. Beneath the folding cot they used as a sofa, Din spied a familiar piece of fabric. Kneeling, he reached for it.

Bodhi’s little drawstring pouch still held the pebbles he played with nearly every day. Din poured them out into his hand and the sight of them drained whatever force had been keeping him upright. His knees gave out and he crumbled with a wrecked sob, clutching the pebbles in his fist. He lay his head on the cot and let his despair, his tears, overcome him. “Bodhi, where are you?” 

The droid behind him let out a low, sad tone and rolled closer. It’s light flitted over the Mandalorian, coming to rest on his signet. Without warning it cast it’s light to the other side of the cot and played it’s recording. “Din,” the Mandalorian jumped at the sound of his name, the cavern bathed in the blue light of Edith’s image just a few feet away from him, “if you’re seeing this, you’ve just left Vodran and Moff Gideon is here. He’s known the child was here all along. I got Maz’ comm just after we said goodbye. I’ve been blinded by… ” Din stood slowly and went closer to the image. “I don’t have much time. This droid is the one you commanded to protect your son with it’s life and that is the only command it has ever received. The Hutts never used it. Trust it. I am giving it coordinates that will lead you to me. It will take only you. Please trust this droid, Din. Trust me. Ni kar’taylir darasuum. May the Force be with you.”

The droid allowed the message to play again, Din knelt before Edith’s hologram, his heart breaking as her voice cracked and her face splintered with emotion for just a moment. Bodhi’s bright eyes and enormous ears were visible in the image, a little hand on Edith’s shoulder, no doubt trying to comfort his mother. Din sat there, clutching Bodhi’s bag of pebbles and watching Edith’s holo, numb.

“Beroya, Nexus touching down on Vodran, where can we find you?” Lor’s voice cut through the despair.

Din shook the cobwebs from his mind and cleared his throat before replying back, “The palace dock, come all the way through. I’m sure you can follow my footprints all the way through to the kitchens. It’s deserted.” Steeling himself against the tide of emotions, Din reached into one of the many crates in the main cavern and set out the camp lights he knew were there, illuminating the cave in stark white light. It wasn’t the warm, welcoming firelight he was so used to. As he worked, the R3 droid stopped playing the holo and began helping, powering up each light as Din set it on it’s tripod. Once the place had light, he finally placed the little bag of pebbles into the crate. With the pebbles went Edith’s forgotten tin of embroidery, Bodhi’s favorite cup and hastily washed spoon that fit perfectly in his little hand. Before he could linger too long in his own head, Din moved to his own space in the cavern, pulling back the canvas curtain.

His space was already bare, most of his personal effects either in his ship or in Edith’s space. The only thing left of value was Bodhi’s little teal blanket, given to him on Sorgan. Din picked it up and folded it neatly. He stepped back into the main cavern just as footsteps entered from the palace kitchen, Lor and Anya entering the dimly lit space. Whether it was the way his entire weight was leaned into his arm against the entrance to his quarters or the pervasive silence of the cave, the Al’verde and his partner could sense something was very off.

“Vod?” Lor asked.

“They’re not here…” Din ground out. Hearing the words from his own mouth made it more real. He stepped across the narrow passage to Edith’s chamber, pulling back the curtain with a shaking hand. 

Din turned on the little lantern by the entry, casting the room in a sharp yellow glow. The sunken bed and mag-crates were exactly as they had been left weeks ago. Edith’s discarded shawl, Bodhi’s stuffed inuru lay tangled in the blankets. Datapads and pieces of flimsi lay forgotten where Edie had set them next to a half-finished cup of tea. One crate yawned open, smashed beads and electronics strewn across the stone floor. He stepped into the room as if someone lay sleeping, taking in the space.

Anya stepped forward and put a hand on Din’s shoulder. “What happened here, Beroya?” Din started, so lost in finding their home empty. He turned to find the Al’verde, Anya and the droid watching him from the doorway.

Din stepped out of Anya’s grasp and lead them further into the room, where the droid gave a low, sad blip of a response. “Show them, Droid.”

The droid played Edith’s holo message again. Lor went to one knee as it played, Anya leaned against him, listening, but watching Din, who stood stone still. 

“Who’s Maz? What was the message?” Lor rose and was immediately in Commander mode.

Din just shook his head. “I just started looking… I - I never got a message.”

Lor began rifling through the crates, going through baskets, as if the cave were a crime scene. “This Maz person must have contacted Edith somehow…”

“Lor!” Anya grabbed her husband’s wrist. “This is Edith’s home, Din’s home.” Lor stood and considered Anya for a moment.

“Sorry, Beroya.” Lor nodded.

Din just nodded back. “Nothing is out of place. Maz is our contact on Takodana, she put me in touch with Edie.”

The little droid chirped from his place beside Anya, his droid-speak telling Din nothing and the others plenty. “What did it say?”

“He says the hangar droids helped Edith and the boy get out. He’s been waiting for you, like the holo said.” Anya translated. 

Din looked around the cavern. “I’m just going to pack up some of their things…” One of the smashed beads caught his eye and he bent to pick it up. The Mandalorian let his gloved fingers brush over the bits of metal, solder and electronic components mixed in with string and wooden beads. Picking up with string and a few pieces of the ruined necklace, he held it up to the light. “What the hell?”

Lor came closer and squinted at the trinket. “What are we looking at, Beroya?”

Anya moved to look as well and kicked something that went skittering across the floor. Lor stooped to pick up the object, a small holocomm. The three Mandalorians looked at one another before Lor activated it.

Maz Kanata’s big-eyed countenance came to life above the holocomm in Lor’s hand. “Edith Marshal, Din Djarin, you are being surveilled on Vodran. You must leave. I fear Ex-Imperials have your location. Word of impending ISB occupation has reached the Hutts and they are abandoning their claim to the settlement. Make haste. May the Force Be With You.”

Anya could sense the fear and anxiety rolling off the bounty hunter in waves. Looking over the room they were in, she could guess that this was Din and Edith’s sanctuary, that just being in this room made her absence that much harder to take.

Lor turned off the holocomm. “Gather what you need, this droid has coordinates. We’ll need to dust off the mech socket on the Razor Crest, Beroya. I’m bringing this necklace and the holo to Mage to see if he can tell us anything and then we’re going to find your family.”

Everything Din wanted to bring with him fit into one small crate. The hangar droids were more than happy to work on the disused astromech socket on the Razor Crest, while the three Mandalorians watched the recording of Edith’s escape from the palace. Lor put a datastick in the hangar console and downloaded the recording.

“Your lady’s got some skills, Beroya. That flying is every Vod’s wet dream right there. And gorgeous too?” Lor said. Anya smacked the back of his helmet. “What? I’m not wrong.”

Anya sighed. “No, you’re not.” Anya huffed and walked away to refuel the Nexus. Both ships were in the underground hangar, droids scurrying to clean and refuel them.

Din watched with barely concealed anxiety as pit droids cleaned and fixed the socket on the top of the Razor Crest, meant to house a droid just like the R3. His distrust of droids was just going to have to be set aside, if he was going to find Edith and Bodhi. This particular droid had already proven his worth, by protecting Bodhi once.

“You ok?” Lor asked, his tone serious. “I know this is a lot hitting you all at once.”

Din didn’t want to have this conversation with Lor. “I need to talk to Edie… I need to know she’s safe… I.. fuck, Al’verde, I’m putting all my faith in a droid. My son is missing, Edie is missing… and this Death Watch bullshit… I just want to talk to her…” Din slammed his fists down on the console, the familiar sick feeling creeping into his stomach once more.

“I know, kid. I get it. I’m sorry you found out the way you did. Nothing I say is going to make this any easier. Death Watch took your family. They took _my_ family. But Kyr’stad gave us something else. See that woman over there?” Lor gestured to where Anya was directing the pit droids near the Nexus. “She married into this tribe. Married me of all people.” Lor chuckled. “She didn’t even ask why our tribe is so strict. _That_ is love, Din. When she was pregnant with our first, she went missing. _I lost my fucking mind_. The tribe was in the air in less than a day…”

“We found her.” Din recalled.

Lor nodded, “We found her. We found her. And we’ll find Edie and Bodhi too. Because seriously, Beroya, that is some woman you got there! We know what this is for you, Din.” Lor clapped Din on the shoulder and walked over to where Anya was uncoupling the fuel line from the Nexus. Din watched as the hangar droids expertly loaded the little R3 droid into the Razor Crest’s astromech socket and prepared it for flight.

Anya found Din in the cockpit of the Razor Crest staring at the new addition to the controls. “For all the languages you know, you’re a bit rusty on Droid.” Anya teased. “This will translate for you. R3 can understand you fine.”

“I don’t like this.” Din grumbled.

Anya ignored him. “Al’verde wants to rally the rest of the tribe on Dantooine in case we’re walking into a trap.”

Din blanched beneath the helmet. “He wants to go back to Dantooine before we go looking for Bodhi? I’m going now, Anya.”

“Beroya, you know that’s a bad idea. Let do this safely. He’s sent a comm to the Blackadder about the tracker in that necklace already, so Mage can get working in it.”

He was close, so close he could taste it. Every bone in Din’s body screamed to take off and let the little droid guide him to Edith. He knew Anya was right though. He knew Lor was right.

Before the Mandalorian could acquiesce, R3’s high-pitched speech tore through the cockpit, warning signals lacing his tones, the new display on the console began to light up with a string of 8-bit words and numbers, droid-speak turned into basic. PERIMETER ALERT, INCOMING VESSELS, PERIMETER ALERT, TWO TIE-CLASS FIGHTERS ENTERING THE ATMOSPHERE MACH 8.5 ETA 4 MINUTES, PERIMETER ALERT.

“Shit!”

“Fuck!”

Anya and Din both swore and sprung into action. Anya slid down the ladder and ran out into the hangar, slapping the Razor Crest’s ramp control as she went, while Din strapped in and began prepping for take off. “Anya! Din! Mage skipped the Blackadder, he figured out how the tracker works! We’re taking off now!” Lor’s voice was loud through their helmets, and he sounded as if he was running. Above both ships, the hangar doors were opening.

The second Anya was aboard the Nexus, the ship was moving to take off. “Those bastards!” Lor hovered the ship as steady as possible to the center of the hangar as Anya made her way to the cockpit. “The beads - every time one moves, it sends a signal. They’ve been on the other side of Vodran, fucking waiting for us. Strap in love, it’s gonna be rough.”

Anya clicked her harness into place. “You know I like it rough.” Her smile was evident, even behind the beskar.

“Comms still on.” Din reminded. He navigated the Razor Crest to hover right behind the Nexus, ready to move as soon as the hangar doors were open enough. 

Lor just laughed. “Setting coordinates for Dantooine, see you in the black, Beroya.”

The Nexus launched out of the hangar with the Razor Crest immediately behind. Not a minute later the tell-tale whine of TIE-fighters closing in on them could be heard and then the dog fight began. Both Mandalorian ships quickly sought to leave the atmosphere, where they would have the best chance of being able to level off and push into hyperspeed, where they couldn’t be followed, but they needed time for the hull to cool enough to make the jump and to be able to level out the ship enough for the inertial dampeners to keep the ship in one piece. Dodging heavy fire from a TIE fighter did not give either of them much opportunity to be in a position to make the jump. Beside Lor, Anya was on the guns, cursing a blue streak per her usual as he tried to bring the Nexus into an offensive position.

Din brought the Razor Crest out of the planet’s atmosphere and into evasive maneuvers immediately, R3 protesting loudly over the commlink. The TIE’s shots were landing dangerously close to the Razor Crest’s engines and Din was pulling out every defensive move he knew. The droid, however, had other plans.

“RECOMMEND BARREL ROLL ATTACK”. The droid blipped.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Din yelled, the ship lurching hard to the left. “NO, STARBOARD!”

The droid’s responding admonishment did not translate. “BREAK DEFENSE SPLIT HARD PORT.”

Din did exactly as the droid suggested. “No shit. Now shut. Up. I know what I’m doing.”

“PROXIMITY ALERT, TRIGGER LOCK ALERT.” The droid’s incessant blurps and bleeps only served to make the Mandalorian’s anxiety worse. 

Din abruptly pulled the break and reversed the thrusters, letting the TIE on his tail whiz past overhead, scrapping the hull of the Razor Crest with a sickening screech. When the TIE was in his viewport, Din mashed his thumbs on the trigger and the TIE became a ball of fiery debris. 

“Damage report, R3?” Din asked the droid, aiming for where the Nexus was still trying to shake the other TIE fighter. The droid was silent. “R3?” The translator was blank. Din’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

Catching up to the Nexus, the Razor Crest made short work of the other TIE and pulled alongside Lor and Anya. 

“You want me to say it, Beroya?” Lor asked Din over the comm.

Anya began, “Mage can look it over -”

“No.” Din already knew. He didn’t need to hear it from anyone else. “No. Coordinates set for Dantooine.”

Din made the jump to hyperspace; what was left of the R3 droid flying off into the vacuum of space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested, I was going to do a "director's commentary" kind of thing over on Tumblr where I repost the chapters of this fic and talk about my thought process. Anyone up for that? I feel like I'm talking to myself...


	20. Helmets Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Warriors come home to unexpected company. Old secrets and sins are shared.

The bare faces sat next to their forge felt like sacrilege, even though the Armorer acknowledged the red-haired Mandalorian with the blue and grey armor was in fact who she said she was. Bo-Katan Kryze was arrogant, going so far as to use the Armorer’s name, which had Ntozake placing an eager hand on the hilt of her knife. Beside the heiress, her companions were smug, smiling at the reaction of the golden-helmed woman, small though the gesture was. The rest of the tribe gathered, along with a few from the other tribes in Kephess, who kept their helms on out of respect. Din, Lor and Anya came upon their brethren in tense conversation when they returned from their mission, the visitors unexpected and the tension setting them on edge as well.

“Our Al’verde, his riduur, and our Beroya have returned.” The Armorer’s gaze didn’t waver from her cold stare into Bo-Katan’s smirking face. The rest of the tribe turned to see the three returned warriors, giving them space to pass to the front of the room. “This is Bo-Katan Kryze, Axes Woves and Koska Reeves. They were contacted by the Blackadder on the Beroya’s information that there were Mandalorians on Trask.” Anya visibly tensed when she heard the name Kryze, and Lor shifted his weight to block his wife from the bare-faced Mandalorian.

Bo-Katan was eager to speak and rose to address Lor herself. “I’m sorry we’re not the lost sheep you’re looking for, but when we heard you were in need of assistance, by Creed, we couldn’t say no.” Her blue eyes sparkled with insincere concern.

Behind Lor, Anya scoffed. “Like you did during the Purge?”

Bo-Katan’s face changed to an angry scowl and her companions rose to their feet in defense. The shift of bodies clad in armor and murmurs of agreement rumbled through the common room. 

“We don’t have time for this!” Din yelled, coming to stand next to the Armorer. All eyes turned to him.

“No we don’t. If you can help me on our mission, we can aid your tribe -” Bo-Katan started to speak again.

Lor finally took the lead, like a true commander. “Enough!” His booming voice rolled over the crowd of Mandalorians. “The Beroya is right, it is time for din’kartay, time is of the essence. Bo-Katan, of Clan Kryze, I assume your presence here is a welcome one, and it appears you are in need of our assistance, as we are yours. You may stay. I will have need of the ruus’alor, Mage, please start analyzing the tech. My riduur will provide din’kartay for the rest of you while she directs the off-load. Representatives from the other tribes may also join us.” Mage stepped forward and took several items from Lor, quickly retreating to his console. Men and women, the tribe’s sargents, kneeled in a circle around Lor, Anya leaving to direct the rest to unload the ships. Din sat on his knees as well, leaving Bo-Katan and Lor standing. 

“Glad to see Kyr’tsad retained some civility amongst zealots.” Bo-Katan said to Woves under her breath and sat back down on her stool opposite the Armorer.

Lor took a step and towered over the woman. “You would be wise to hold your tongue, Princess. This is our home and our forge. You are a guest here. One of our tribe is in grave danger and I will not waste another minute standing on ceremony for you.”

The common room was silent.

“We were being watched on Vodran, Alor.” Din started. “My - my son and his mother were gone. We had coordinates, but the R3 Unit that had them was damaged in a firefight.” 

Lor sighed, wanting to reach out to Din. “We’re hoping Mage can work some magic with the R3. We have the tech that was used to track them, and we have the name of the Jedi’s contact.” 

The three bare-faced Mandalorians shared a look. “What’s this about Jedi?” Bo-Katan asked.

Ntozake, Lor and Din glanced at one another. Finally, Ntozake broke the silence. “Our Beroya has a son, whose mother is a Jedi. They were located on Vodran approximately four weeks ago, and we have been unable to contact them. It appears they were able to escape the planet, but their whereabouts are currently unknown.”

Koska finally spoke up. “What were they escaping from?”

“The Empire.” Din replied solemnly. 

Bo-Katan looked at the bounty hunter with incredulity. “The whole thing or….” 

“Moff Gideon.” Din growled. Just saying the name left the taste of bile in his mouth.

Bo-Katan, Koska and Axes all sat up straighter, grinning.

“It looks like we have some common interests then.” Bo-Katan’s eyes had a mischievous glint Din instantly mistrusted. 

Lor continued with his report. “As for the other part of the mission, we did not find more lost sheep. We did however secure materials for our tribe’s common house and our Beroya’s last bounty will cover the cost of our parcel of land east of Kephess, should the tribe choose to remain here.”

Ntozake turned sharply to look at Din who had barely moved a muscle. The others in the room shifted, but didn’t speak. They knew the sum must have been large, having assumed they would need to borrow from the other tribes, but none knew just how much. “That was one bounty?” Ntozake breathed the question as if she knew the answer but couldn’t believe it. “You have done well, Beroya, thank you.”

“We will meet again tomorrow and work out a plan to find our people. Beroya has provided for us and now we will provide for him. This is the way.” 

“This is the way.” The tribe agreed.

Lor dismissed them all and reached a hand out to help Din up from his place beside the Armorer. 

Brothers and sisters in arms came and thanked Din, slapping him on the back, rapping their knuckles on his helmet, clasping his shoulder. A few tried pulling him into a hug that he didn’t even attempt to return. Many told him they would help him find his son and his beloved. He didn’t hear them. There was a thick roar in his ears and a ball of lead in his stomach that rooted him to the ground. Finally, the bronze form of Daan, Mage’s riduur, gently lead Din away from the common room and into his own home, where Mage could be heard working on the dismantled beaded necklace or the R3 droid, it was impossible to tell which. Daan just sat Din on a comfortable chair in a quiet room and left him there. Din was thankful for it.

“I don’t care who you are! You aren’t barging into my home in the middle of the night!”

“He needs to rest.”

“I need to speak with him.”

“He’s exhausted.”

“He is key to our mission.”

“The only mission he has is finding his family!”

“Your mission can wait until morning.”

Din woke to a hushed argument just outside the room where he slept. He was still in full armor, jetpack and all, curled up in Daan and Mage’s extra bedroom. He’d never even made it to the bed, though someone had been kind enough to cover him with a heavy blanket. He could hear Mage and Daan’s voices and another he couldn’t place. He rose to confront the argument, a spark of affection for his Tribesmen spurning him into action.

Din opened the door onto Clan Jhett’s small main room, Daan in his full bronze-hued armor leaned against the door panel and Mage in his duraweave and helmet stood near the bedroom. Bo-Katan stood in the doorway to the home forcing the door panel to remain open, having invited herself in.

“I’m sorry Beroya, we tried -” Daan started.

“It’s ok.” Din put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Thank you, Vod.” Bo-Katan started to speak and Din put up a hand. “I’ll speak to you in the common room.” Din moved to stand with his back to her, effectively closing her off from the conversation. “Mage, you saved our asses back there. If you didn’t know your shit, we’d be dead. Thank you.” Din pulled Mage into an unexpected embrace, briefly bringing their foreheads together. If Bo-Katan didn’t take Din’s back as a dismissal, she definitely understood this uncharacteristic display of affection as one and finally left.

Daan watched on with a smile and came in close. “We’ll talk later, yeah? We’ve all got a lot to process right now. You can crash here, if you want.”

Din just nodded and followed the Heiress out to the common room.

Bo-Katan was in her full armor, sans helmet, completely ready for battle. The chromometer in Din’s helmet read just past midnight and the common room was dark, nightsong loud in Dantooine’s slumber. Din had already grown tired of Clan Kryze and it’s demands on his people and his time.

“What do you know of the Jedi?” Bo-Katan asked. She stood in the center of the common room and Din slowly walked around her.

“I have trained with a Jedi. My cyare. My son trains with her now. If they are not already dead at the hands of Moff Gideon. What do you know of the Jedi?” Din asked. His voice was low and dangerous.

Bo-Katan was caught off-guard. “Trained? How?” She raised an eyebrow at Din.

“Oh no, princess. If I’m laying all my cards out on the table, so are you. What do you know of the Jedi?” Din continued to circle the other Mandalorian.

Bo-Katan took a deep breath, obviously displeased at not being given the upper hand. “I know of a Jedi, on the forest planet of Corvus. She was someone I once considered an ally. She may be able to point you in the right direction, find your lost Jedi.”

Din stopped and considered the woman in front of him. “You don’t think Moff Gideon has them?”

“I think it’s possible. I’ve also fought with the Jedi. On both sides of the blade. Only a handful survived Order 66 and if your beloved survived that, I doubt even the Moff could get his hands on her.” Bo-Katan flashed a genuine smile. “Either way, my contact may be able to find her.”

“Why should I trust you? It sounds like you have other matters to attend to.” Din’s words were laced with venom.

“We both want the same thing. The Moff possesses something that once belonged to me. When I find him I will defeat him and it will be mine again. It will help me reclaim what is rightfully mine.”

Din scoffed and stopped. He crossed his arms and stood blocking the exit. “You are mistaken. Finding my family and ensuring their safety is my only priority. I have no interest in whatever it is you require from Moff Gideon.”

Bo-Katan began pacing, agitated now, aware she had given up her leverage and shown her cards. “You have no interest in uniting your people? You wouldn’t rally behind an effort to bring back the glory of our forefathers?”

Din broke. “You come here and berate us, you mock us because we don’t show our faces, call us zealots! You wear the armor of the Night Owls - you broke off from Death Watch the second it fell to Darth Maul and you never fucking looked back! You knew they were taking children, you fucking knew and you didn’t do a damn thing to stop it! And now you want our help? Ntozake and Kree, and all the rest of the elders might have sent us all in to hiding and forced us to hide our faces, but they did it out of love - what the hell did you do? Where were you?” Din’s helmet was mere millimeters from Bo-Katan’s face by the time he’d finished, and she has stood there, taking it. He was shaking, his eyes full of unshed tears beneath his helm.

“Vod!” Lor’s voice cut through Din’s haze of anger. “Enough.”

Din stepped away and noticed the small crowed that had come out to see what the commotion was. Din began to step away and let Lor’s firm hand on his shoulder start to guide him toward Clan Jhett’s home.

“You’re right.” Bo-Katan’s voice was a near whisper. Din and Lor turned back to her. “We have a lot to atone for. All of us. We… we were so caught up in the war, trying to take back political power… we forgot what was actually important.” Her head hung low and for the first time, Bo-Katan had a hard time meeting the visored gaze of the other Mandalorians. “I’ll admit I didn’t expect to find Kyr’tsad so… organized. I see how the other tribes on Dantooine respect you -”

“Then you’ll let us heal our wounds before you ask us to go into battle for you.” Lor said softly, before turning his back on Bo-Katan Kryze, who simply nodded in defeat.

After witnessing Din’s outburst the night before, Clan Reishi was up at first light to offer the Blackadder to the war party preparing to go out to find Edith and Bodhi. The Vanguard-Class Heavy Assault Gunship wasn’t the fastest ship, but she had it where it counted. She was painted a sleek black with red pinstripes, owned and lovingly maintained by the the Kephess tribe’s own bounty hunter, Aryn Reishi. The Blackadder could carry a total of twelve souls, six crew and six passengers. Reishi insisted he didn’t want to pilot the ship himself and gave Lor his blessing. Before the sun was fully showing it’s face over the mountains, Lor readying Anya, Din, Mage, Daan, Paz, Bo-Katan and Koska to leave for the Blackadder. A small party carrying weapons and provisions to the ship had gone ahead and was loading it for the thirty or so hours they would be in hyperspace to Corvus. Ntozake stood by the forge in silence, having provided all she could.

Spider, dressed in her full child’s armor, stuck close to her father’s side as he gave instructions to those under his command that would be staying behind. She soaked in every word, and Paz kept an affectionate hand on her little head throughout the entire meeting. “Buir?” Spider asked when her father had dismissed his company. “You’ll bring Beroya’s cyare and his ad’ika home?” Her eyes were bright and trusting.

Paz got down on one knee, his massive body dwarfing the child’s several times over. His enormous hands wrapped around her upper arms gently holding her there. The sun peaked over the mountains and was a halo around her curly head as she tilted it in a curious, attentive stance. “I will do my best, verd’ika. Al’verde has good intelligence from Clan Kryze, and our tribe’s best warriors as well. You’ll listen to your ba’vodu while I am gone.” Paz pointed to Ntozake.

“Yes, Buir.” Spider’s smile was genuine. She let her father press his forehead to hers for a long moment. 

Paz sighed, “Cuyir jate, ad’ika.”

“Gar balyc, Buir.” Spider raised an eyebrow with a smirk and backed away from her father.

Behind Paz, Din let go a laugh. The others turned to look at him. It had been a long time since they had heard their Beroya truly laugh. Din clapped Paz on the shoulder. “I love that kid, Paz.” Din knocked Paz’ shoulder as he passed the much larger man and went out into the grassy field. The rest of the their party followed, igniting their jetpacks and flying off for the short journey to the Blackadder.

Inside the cockpit of the Blackadder, Mage and Daan sat with Din, the rest of their party taking advantage of the extended hyperspace trip to catch up on sleep and stay out of each other’s way. The large view screen was a blizzard of starlight flying past, the only other light being the controls of the ship reflecting off the beskar of the three fully armored Mandalorians watching the galaxy go by. Mage had a comforting hand on his partner’s knee as Daan recalled learning the sordid history of their tribe. Much like Din, Daan’s parents had been needlessly killed when he was a child, though he had always blamed himself. Learning this new information had pulled the scab off a barely-healed wound. 

“I hid and they were looking for me… I thought, for a long time, I thought that if I had just come out, and we had left, they would have lived. And when she told me. I shut down. If you hadn’t rescued your foundling and needed our help on Nevarro…” Daan’s voice cracked as he spoke. Din had run the same reel of what if’s over and over in his mind a thousand times.

Din sighed, a sound that crackled through the modulator of his helmet. “I know Edith knew. Before I found you all on Dantooine. Damn it, I think she wanted to tell me. I think the Armorer -Ntozake - she tried to tell me…” They were all quiet for a long moment, all three men lost in their own thoughts.

It was Mage who broke the silence. “Are we all doing names now?” He gave a dry chuckle. “All of a sudden we’re all doing names and then we’ll be showing our ugly faces to each other.” Din and Daan both laughed.

“I’ve put up with your face for ten years now. I think everyone else should experience the beauty, Mage.” Daan tilted his helmet toward his husband affectionately.

Mage pushed at Daan’s helmet in playful annoyance. “Shut up. Wait’ll they all see your pretty face. I don’t know if I’m willing to share!”

“You two are fucking disgusting.” Din shook his head, chuckling. He looked out the viewscreen at the streaks of light, suns and planets, whole systems passing by faster than the speed of light. He thought of Edith’s smiling face, the way every emotion would flit over her face and show in her eyes. His whole chest ached to hear her voice.

“Just wait, Beroya. The freedom that comes from being able to let your riduur see you… it’s… I can’t describe it.” Daan said softly.

Mage’s smile was evident as he spoke. “To finally be able to see someone’s expressions when they speak. To see those wheels turn when they think. That moment after you kiss him and you both open your eyes and look at each other.” Din glanced over at Mage and Daan, who were looking at each other, Mage’s hand still firmly on Daan’s knee. Daan, though, was slowly tracing the edge of Mage’s vembrace with bare fingers.

Din turned away and looked back out at the stars. “I hope I get the chance.” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Verd'ika: little soldier  
> Ba'Vodu: aunt/uncle  
> Cuyir jate, ad’ika: Be good, little one  
> Gar balyc, Buir: You too, dad


	21. The Other Jedi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war party meets another Jedi

Corvus was no forest planet. It may have been at one time, but it was a shell of it’s former glory. The Blackadder landed just outside the city of Calodan, expecting open gates and a warm welcome. The barren landscape, locked gates and singed air left a bitter taste in the mouths of every Mandalorian on the crew. They were gathered in the cockpit, planning.

“Something’s wrong. I don’t like this.” Bo-Katan looked out the viewscreen at the stripped trees and ashen ground.

“Do you think your contact is still in there?” Lor’s calculating, tactical mind was already working. 

Koska finally spoke up. “This place was beautiful - it was full of people and music and life. Something happened.”

“What if we just let the Beroya do his job and see what information he can gather?” Anya shrugged, as if it was the simplest answer. And it was.

Bo-Katan raised an eyebrow. “Alone? You want back-up?”

Din smirked under his helmet, Paz and Daan had the audacity to snigger at the insinuation. Anya just dropped her head back and crossed her arms in exasperation. 

“Twenty some years providing for our tribe, on his own? I think he can handle some recon by himself.” Lor clapped Din on the shoulder and left the room to lower the exit ramp. Koska and Bo-Katan just rolled their eyes at the lot of them.

Mage was standing at the end of the ramp waiting for Din, who was already armed, per usual. 

“I’m still working on the droid, so if this goes South, it might still be an option.” Mage tried to reassure him.

Din shook his head. “Was my own damn fault. But, thank you.” He didn’t look back as he walked off the ship and toward the dull grey outline of the city.

Once he was allowed entry into the city, it’s desolation and depression became even more apparent. It’s people literally begged the Mandalorian not to speak to them, until he came to the entrance to the Magistrate’s home, where people hung from stakes surrounded by electrified rails, pleading for their lives, publicly tortured in a macabre display. The city was once beautiful and vibrant, hints of jewel tones underneath the soot that seemed to coat every surface, intricate details carved into the duracrete now made dull by the ash settled in every crevice. The citizens of Calodan wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Din saw little but their shadows as he walked through the main street.

The gate to the Magistrate’s garden opened for him and he was plunged into another world entirely. Lush bonsai and perfectly trimmed grass, fragrant hyacinth and cherry blossoms wafted through the air, petals settling on a clear koi pond on either side of the walkway. Din let the gate close behind him, an older woman dressed in fine, clean silk robes, wearing a self-satisfied smile stood at the other end of the walkway, flanked by an armed guard.

The most important information Din learned was that Bo-Katan’s contact was wanted dead by the Magistrate and said Magistrate would pay handsomely for her head. The lead on her whereabouts in the scalded forest were a bonus.

Din gathered the rest of the crew and lead them toward the Jedi’s home. Dusk seemed to hang over the planet the entire day, casting long shadows against the charred ground and bathing everything in ethereal blue light. The Mandalorians spread out, eerily silent, stalking through the scant undergrowth, barely rousing the wildlife as they got closer to the coordinates Din was given. On the horizon, tall, indistinct creatures moved and lowed to one another.

Daan took out his binocs and surveyed the horizon, activating his commlink. “This place gives me the creeps. What exactly are we looking for?” A bright flash of two white light sabers behind him had Daan dropping the binocs and reflexively blocking the attacker, who had jumped from the trees above. The buzzing glow of kyber plasma made the Jedi’s fierce facial markings glow in the low light, and Daan could do little but block her advances. She was was wearing a heavy, dark cloak, but he could see her blue and white lekku and determined eyes as she struck blow after blow. “Wait!” Daan tried to call out, but his attacker was on hard offense. She attacked once more and he gave a warning blast of fire from his vembrace. The Jedi cartwheeled and let her burning cloak fall from her body.

The sound of the crew running to his aid could be heard throughout the forest, and Daan tried to stop the Jedi’s attack with his whipcord. She smirked at him and jumped back into the trees, bringing Daan off his feet, forcing him to disengage the cord. He fell to the ground, finally resorting to pulling his blaster, turning to where the Jedi once again had her light sabers ready for another attack. They were surrounded by the crew of the Blackadder, Bo-Katan skidding to a stop next to Daan and ripping off her helmet.

“Ahsoka! It’s me!” Bo-Katan smiled through her labored breath and placed a placating hand on Daan’s shoulder. The man slowly lowered his blaster. “We need to talk.”

The Jedi slowly lowered her light sabers, eyeing the Mandalorians surrounding her, bodies tense. One individual stood out, even above the faces and armor of her familiar allies, Bo-Katan and Koska Reeves. Din’s aura shone bright in the twilight, pulsating with quiet, familiar energy. Ahsoka Tano disengaged her light sabers and focused in on Din Djarin. “I hope it’s about him.”

The crew of the Blackadder waited in the growing darkness, while Din and Ahsoka sat in a clearing, seeming to simply stare at one another. Paz was restless and uncomfortable, while Clan Jhett took the time to sit quietly together. Anya and Lor walked to a ridge where they could see the animals they had spied earlier and get a better look at the terrain around their position. Koska and Bo-Katan picked at their field rations and paced.

Din donned his cloak and sat before Ahsoka. The tall, lithe Togruta woman had to hold in a gasp when she saw the cloak. She could feel the familiar aura radiating off of it. Her brilliant, fierce eyes met Din’s through his impassive visor and he opened his mind to her.

The image of Edith Marshal holding Bodhi as Din left them standing on Vodran hit Ahsoka like a sledgehammer. A single tear slipped down her face. She hadn’t seen that flame red hair or those expressive green eyes since… since her own fall from grace during the Clone Wars. Ahsoka’s memory opened to Din.

A girl of ten, her face enveloped by untamed red curls, smiling down at a tiny, thin toddler with burnt orange skin and striking white markings. The toddler fell asleep as her blue and white lekku were stroked, the older girl humming softly and rocking her, the tightness of dried tears on her cheeks long forgotten.

Edith, now a little older, a single braid tucked behind her ear at the front of a classroom, her green eyes flashing with anger. A large man with dark skin and purple robes looked down at the girl, arms crossed. They were arguing. The girl was winning. And the younger Togruta girl in the back of the classroom was watching and soaking in every word. “I’m sorry, Master Windu, I will not back down. I believe in this too strongly.” 

Edith’s pleading expression, a deep sense of loss and disappointment washing over them. “Please reconsider, Ahsoka. I could petition to have you as my first padawan.” The sensation of those piercing green eyes watching as Ahsoka left the temple for the last time, refusing to look back.

Emotions, images, sensations, memories, flowed through their connection. Din was elated to know more about Edith, to see something of her former life, to meet someone who knew her, who may be the equivalent of family.

Din shyly offered his own memories to Ahsoka.

Fierce Edith holding her light saber to his throat and his terrified awe of her. The sensation of her skin beneath his hand as he unbuckled her knife holster. The taste of the Mandalorian food she cooked for him. The lost look in her eyes when she spoke about her students. He sat up straighter and showed Ahsoka the cockpit of the Razor Crest, how she had begun to train him to shield his mind. He showed her his final test. Ahsoka smiled, looking up at the sky, her eyes watery. Din pushed a question into her mind. Ahsoka avoided the question and Din backed off, instead showing her why he needed her help.

Deep concern began to run through their connection, as flashes of Bodhi claiming Edith as his mother and Edith naming him as her child flowed between them. Then Din showed the Jedi his memory of asking Edith to be his wife. He held nothing back from this stranger, from his overwhelming trepidation to the pure joy at Edith’s inability to speak the words, she herself so very happy. Ahsoka felt Din’s elation, the fullness of his heart, holding his family in that moment and her concern fell away. For as elated as she understood him to be, Ahsoka could also see the depths of despair into which he had so recently fallen. It was if he lead her to the precipice and allowed her to look over the edge to see what awaited him at the bottom, and she alone could push him in either direction.

Ahsoka squeezed Din’s hand and stood, knowing she could do nothing but help another Jedi. She pulled Din up and they walked quietly back to where the rest of the crew was waiting for them, heads turning.

“I know the Jedi you are looking for, and I know where she is.” Ahsoka addressed the group, pulling her cloak more closely around her. The crew gathered around her and Din, curious about the plan. “But I cannot give you the coordinates.” Din’s helmet whipped to look at Ahsoka, confused. “I will take you there. It is the last true sanctuary for the Jedi, and I will not betray the beings who live there.”

The group visibly relaxed. “Thank you, Ahsoka.” Bo-Katan said with a genuine smile.

“I have one request.” Ahsoka turned to Din. “The Magistrate is keeping this city in chains. You help me free them, help me get the information I need from her and I will take you to Edith Marshal.”

“Gladly.” Din replied.

By the time Ahsoka was handing Din the Magistrate’s beskar spear and and following him to the Blackadder with the rest of the war party, it was already nightfall again. The woman who had usurped the rule of the great city of Calodan was finally in chains and the rightful Magistrate was returned to power. The gates were wide open as they strode away. Ahsoka was the last to enter the ship, turning at the last moment to look back out over Corvus with a tight smile. Just before the ramp closed, a small white and green blur flew through the shrinking opening and alighted on the Jedi’s shoulder.

Mage disconnected the ruined R3 unit from the repair console next to the copilot seat as Ahsoka came to sit down beside him. As if she could see his face, she could sense his frustration behind his two-toned helm, angry with himself for his inability to fix the droid.

“What happened to the poor thing?” Ahsoka grimaced at the beheaded droid, it’s familiar dome completely missing from it’s base. She began picking through the remains of the droid, looking into the cavern left by the absence of it’s processing unit.

As the rest of the crew filed in and got settled, Paz walked by. “The Beroya happened.”

“Keep walkin, Big Boy.” Anya put a hand between Paz’ shoulder blades and pushed, forcing him into the galley.

Mage just snorted. “Not wrong. He wasn’t used to having a mech on his ship and pulled a defensive maneuver that sheered the R3 clean off.”

Lor sat down opposite Ahsoka. “Think you can fix it?”

“There’s nothing to fix.” The Jedi answered, tossing a few loose components into the base of the droid. Din listened from across the cockpit. His shoulders dropped and the rest of the crew noticed his defeated posture. Daan came to stand behind his husband and Bo-Katan leaned against the open door frame leading to the galley.

Koska was the first to speak up from the other co-pilot seat.“So where are we going?”

Ahsoka grinned and spun in the pilot’s seat, starting the preflight sequence, which had the entire crew sitting up straighter and beginning to strap into their seats, looking at each other in confusion. “The Unknown Regions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is nearing it's end, my lovelies... and it may not end well for our lovers....
> 
> Please see additions to the Pintrest board and the Playlist for hints about the final chapters. *wink*

**Author's Note:**

> Pinterest for this fic: https://pin.it/3QTRUkE
> 
> Apple iTunes Playlist for this Fic: https://music.apple.com/us/playlist/broken/pl.u-55jquNE2Vd


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